


Cryptid

by spookyscaryskeletons (Buttons15)



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Horror, Romantic Comedy, top!Elsa because I said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 64,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttons15/pseuds/spookyscaryskeletons
Summary: “You just look like a real heartbreaker."Elsa turned to face her, fast enough that Maren could hear the movement. Her eyes were cold, hard ice. She licked her lips, stared at her with that intensity, the hawk-gaze that brought her goosebumps in delightful trepidation, a predator about to pounce and one could never know whether it was for play or for the kill. This was a woman who’d frozen the ocean over, a woman who’d tamed the elementals of myth with the ease Maren would tame a reindeer, a woman who was all the bedtime stories Maren’s grandparents told her in the flesh.Elsa looked at her, but said nothing."------in which honeymaren has a crush, but it so happens to be on the incredibly dense ice-lady-of-the-woods, because nothing can ever be easychinese translation avaliablehereandhere, thanks to Eri!spanish translation avaliablehere, thanks to Lord Makurus!
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 1336
Kudos: 2048





	1. Chapter 1

When she was a little girl, Honeymaren listened to stories about the creatures of the forest. There were cryptids of all sorts – the earth giants, whom they feared, and the invisible elementals of fire, water and wind, whose shapes the stories could never agree on. Werewolves, witches, fae, trolls, beings of every type lurking behind the trees, ready to pounce at any inattentive northuldran child.

Maren had a healthy amount of respect for magical beings. She was also, by far and large, the most extroverted person in a tribe of mostly quiet, introspective bunch who tended to like reindeers better than people. Her brother liked to joke around that she could befriend anyone and anything.

And so it was no surprise that she was, by unspoken yet unanimous agreement, chosen as the one to approach – and keep an eye on – the Fifth Spirit of legend. And while she could indeed get close to most people, as it turned out, Elsa was a whole new kind of puzzle.

“Maren.”

She turned. It was unusual of Elsa to start a conversation. Maren watched her from the corner of her eye, crouched near where the rubble of what was once the Great Dam met the water. “Yes?”

Elsa was staring at the river, brows furrowed. She approached things with the focus of a hunting hawk, Maren had noticed in the brief time they’d been friends. It was one of the few things she knew about Elsa. Maren had met walled-off people before, but Elsa’s stoicism was in a category of its own.

“Look.” Face impassive. No change in expression. She was as hard to read as one of the Earth Giants – harder still, because Maren could guess their motives but not Elsa’s. “What do you call that one?”

She approached the margin. She had a hypothesis not that Elsa could particularly see further than a normal person, but rather that she had an intrinsic sense of living things, particularly those in water.

Enhanced vision or not, the target of her attention was easy to see and easier still to identify. “That’s a pink snapper.”

“I’ve never seen one of those in Arendelle.”

The fish splashed its tail, lazily swimming downstream. “Maybe The Mist kept them in. They make for good roasts.” She paused, let Elsa resume her walk and followed. “I’ll let you know, the next time we hold a celebration. So you can have a taste.”

A nod. The hint of a smile, there and gone almost too fast to be noticed. “Thank you.”

They moved in silence for a while longer. Maren let it stretch between them so that it progressed from something awkward into something comfortable. Elsa was a quiet one, the type who would fit right in with the rest of the tribe, really, but she didn’t know that yet because she was too skittish to meet everyone else.

Maren couldn’t help but compare her temper to those she knew were blood related to her: an aunt. A pair of twin cousins. A grandmother, long passed. But Elsa hadn’t asked, and so Maren didn’t push it upon her, so she could take her time. Maren wasn’t even quite sure how blood relations worked with beings such as her, save that her sisterly bond to Anna knew no bounds.

“Maren?”

_Unusually talkative today,_ she noted, and sped up her step to catch up with her. “Yes?”

“Thank you. For, you know. Showing me around.” Silence. Maren tilted her head but waited. She found that Elsa was one to think before she spoke, and that thinking often took a while. “I appreciate… you not being scared of me.”

_Ah. So this is what this is about. _Maren smiled. “You _are_ a little scary.”

For a split second, her façade broke, eyes widening at the unexpected answer. Then silence again, much longer this time. “Then I appreciate the honesty, at least.”

Maren laughed, and Elsa turned to her. “It’s only natural,” Maren pushed her hands into her pockets. “Anything as beautiful as you causes this sort of… existential fear.” She punctuated the sentence with a sly smirk, taking Elsa’s hand. Elsa needed time, time to process, time to reply, and Maren took advantage of that knowledge to tug her ahead, not giving her a chance to protest.

When they stopped, a bit winded, Maren’s grin widened and she shielded her eyes with her hand. They were on top of a rocky formation, just high enough that she could see above the whole forest. She turned back to help Elsa up, but realized she had already climbed newly-made ice stairs.

“Maren, what the –”

“Look,” she offered a hand anyway, and Elsa took it on reflex. Maren sat down, pulled Elsa with her. “I used to come here every day. To try and see past The Mist. It was the first place I came to when it was gone. Turns out you get to see the most beautiful sunsets.” She tracked the sun with her eyes. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“ – Oh.” Elsa looked around, took in the view, eyes briefly drifting to where their hands touched. She pulled away. Maren gave her space. “I see what you mean,” she spoke after a while, when red hues had crawled over the trees like a wave of fire. “Makes one feel really small, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not a bad feeling,” Maren crossed her legs at the ankles and stared at the sky. “Gives me perspective. Reminds me of what’s important.” When the wind buffeted her face, she closed her eyes.

“Is that how I make you feel?”

“Mm.” She opened one eye, peeked at Elsa, found her as stone-faced as always. “Not quite. With you it’s… something else. Another kind of concern.”

“What does that mean?” There was a certain vulnerability in her voice, the slightest waiver in pitch. She exhaled. “Maren, please.”

_Sometimes, she feels like just a woman,_ Maren punched her lightly on the shoulder. The eagerness to please, the fear of rejection, the layers and layers of self-sabotage disguised as self-preservation. “C’mon. Don’t make me say it.”

Elsa opened her mouth. Closed it. Broke eye contact and stared off into the distance. Her jaw tensed ever so slightly. There was a chill in the air, a gust a couple degrees too cold. Her hair flowed like liquid against the wind. “I don’t know what you mean. But you don’t have to say it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

_Sometimes, though, she feels like something else. _

The back-and-forth dance between too close and out of her grasp, that was the terrifying thing.

“You just look like a real heartbreaker.”

Elsa turned to face her, fast enough that Maren could hear the movement. Her eyes were cold, hard ice. She licked her lips, stared at her with that intensity, the hawk-gaze that brought her goosebumps in delightful trepidation, a predator about to pounce and one could never know whether it was for play or for the kill. This was a woman who’d frozen the ocean over, a woman who’d tamed the elementals of myth with the ease Maren would tame a reindeer, a woman who was all the bedtime stories Maren’s grandparents told her in the flesh.

Elsa looked at her, but said nothing.

Maren exhaled. She searched Elsa’s expression for an answer, but as usual, found none. A flock of birds beat their wings, dissipating the tension in the air. Maren realized her heart was racing.

“Have you ever seen those?” She pointed at the birds with her chin. Elsa followed her gaze. “They’re nightjars. They come out during twilight.”

“Yes. We have those in Arendelle, too.” Her tone carried profound melancholy and something Maren couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe Elsa was just tired. Maybe it was sadness. “It is a good spot. Thank you for showing me.”

“Thank you for coming, even though I didn’t give you that much of a choice.” It was a lie. Elsa could have stopped her. They both knew it. “I’ll let you know where we’re going next time. I know you don’t like surprises. But this was just… I guess it was a surprise for me, too. I didn’t plan on bringing you here.”

“I’m glad you did.” She offered a small, rare smile, then broke eye contact. “And I appreciate the thought. It feels like you know me well.”

The irony of it wasn’t lost on her. “I just pay attention. But you’re hard to read.”

“I don’t mean to be. It’s just… how I was taught, I suppose.” She hugged her own knees, rested her chin on top of them. “Feelings make me anxious.”

_She didn’t get it,_ the realization struck Maren like lightning. Elsa didn’t cut her down but didn’t encourage her. She didn’t, in fact, react to the hints thrown at her at all, as if she couldn’t quite read between the lines. Maren had to bite down the urge to break into mildly hysterical giggles. _By the spirits, she didn’t get it. _

She snorted, raised her head to look at the stars. They were beautiful and bright, better than anything she could have imagined when the Mist covered the sky and the elders told her about the specks of light in the black night. “Just take your time with them. Let them wash over you. Feel them. You don’t have to do anything about them, just… feel them. They aren’t that scary.”

“Everything you just said sounded utterly terrifying.”

Maren laughed. “It’ll come to you, eventually. There’s no rush.”

“Hopefully I won’t freeze over another kingdom or awaken any more spirits in the meantime.” She smiled again. Her sense of humor, Maren noticed, was either acid and cunning or self-deprecating.

“Good things came out of it, both times.” Maren didn’t have the whole of the story, hadn’t asked Elsa for her version yet, but she knew enough to make educated guesses. “You exposed a horrible man. Saved your sister from a bad marriage and helped her meet the love of her life. Bonded with her. And then you helped us get rid of that dam monstrosity. Set us free again, in balance with the spirits.”

“When you put it like that, I almost sound like I knew what I was doing.”

“No one ever does.” Maren saw her relax, brushed their fingers together again. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

Elsa half-turned to her, and this time the lazy smile and half-lidded eyes painted a picture that was almost sly. Maren reconsidered her previous assumption. Perhaps the message _had_ gotten through. “I’m glad I met you, too. You’ve been kind. I’m grateful that you’re so welcoming.” She scrunched her face. “That’s enough feelings for today, I think.”

“That’s – not how it works. Not how any of this works.”

Elsa laughed, unexpectedly, and Maren found herself beaming in return, warmth rushing to her cheeks. “It’ll work how I want it to work.” She raised her index finger. “Beat me to the coast, and I’ll allow myself one more feeling. Only one.”

“It’ll be the feeling of your crushing defeat,” Maren jumped to her feet. “Hey! No ice powers! That’s cheating!”

Maren couldn’t keep the smile off her face when as she climbed down the rock. By the time her feet touched the ground, Elsa was already long gone.

_What am I getting myself into?_ She wondered for the hundredth time.

And then she broke into a run for the coast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's very easy for us to see elsa as human because we've been following her story for a while
> 
> but I'd like to point out that by the end of frozen 2 she is an actual spirit of the woods. no exaggeration. 
> 
> she's a cryptid and honeymaren meets her as a crytpid and she just. she meets the ice witch in her lullabies, the singing siren that rides a horse made of water, has a pet salamander and may or may not eat people, and she goes "oh my god. not to be gay but. what the fuck."
> 
> maren is the millenial walking into a mushroom ring and yelling "PLEASE TAKE ME, I WILL PAY THE DELIVERY FEE"
> 
> and elsa is just s o d e n s e


	2. Chapter 2

There were a lot of things about Elsa that were hard to understand. Some, Maren thought as consequences of her mythical nature. It was those Ryder whispered about, wide eyed, whenever he caught glimpses of her through the forest, voice breaking into songs that turned the dew on the leaves into crystals of ice.

But as fascinating as those displays of magic were, it was the familiarity between them that really caught Maren’s attention, the humanity in her actions, the things which gave Maren hints about the person Elsa had been and how that turned her into person she had become. And so it was that as they walked away from the village and towards whatever frozen castle Elsa had been living on those days, Maren saw the opportunity to ask a question which had been eating away at her.

“How come you’ve cooled down to me?” She found amusement in the words as soon as she spoke them. “I mean, it is fitting, don’t get me wrong, but I’d like to understand it,” she matched Elsa’s pace so they were side by side, “If you allow me.”

Elsa frowned, which was more or less the most facial expression Maren got out of her when they were alone. “What do you mean?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we? At least I think we’re friends. We do friend things together. I enjoy your company.” The idea was coming out way more convoluted than Maren would have liked, but she kept going. “So, friends?”

Elsa nodded way too fast, way too eager, and Maren had to bite back a smirk. “Friends.”

“But most people warm up to their friends, you know,” she gesticulated vaguely, “When they have a cold exterior, it’s to strangers, and as you get to know them better they show up all their warm mushy feelings. See where I’m going?”

“…no?”

“You smile a lot when you’re around everyone else,” she shrugged. “Laugh and dance and hug the children. But when it’s just the two of us you’re… different. Quieter. Reserved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Maren quickly added, “It just got me wondering, that’s all.”

“Oh.” They walked in silence for a while, Maren following her lead between the woods. Sometimes, Elsa would take her to places she’d never been, even though she’d lived in the forest much longer. “They need me to smile.”

_She speaks a lot with few words,_ Maren noticed, but the meaning wasn’t lost on her. The perception of external fear, the alienation, the non-threatening façade she wore. In a crooked way, it was a good thing that Elsa felt comfortable enough to be cold around her.

“Do you need me to be warmer, too?”

The question felt genuine, concerned. “Only if you really mean it. I don’t mind the frosty persona.” She smiled. “Makes whatever feelings I get all the more worth it.”

Elsa broke eye contact and didn’t reply. Maren waited, let her take her time. “Who’s to say they’re wrong?”

“Huh?”

“For being cautious. Afraid, even.” Elsa rubbed her hands together. “Maybe they’re right, and you’re just really reckless.”

“You bet I am. I am very proud of that.” Maren kicked a stray pile of leaves. As they got further into autumn, they were starting to accumulate. “We’ve had this talk before. I’m not afraid of your ice powers or your elemental friends. Well, maybe the earth giants. Those guys are massive. But you? You’re fine.”

Elsa turned her face away. Maren caught herself unconsciously tracing the shape of her neck with her eyes. “You don’t know me.”

“I know as much of you as you’ll let me,” she countered, refused to back down. “You’re very much capable of harm, don’t get me wrong. You know that more than anyone. But you’re also unwilling to hurt. That’s way better, I think, than being unaware. Because you know what you can do, you can choose not to do it.”

Elsa stopped walking and turned to her, eyes wide, the look of a cornered animal. “I –”

“Let me tell you when you scare me,” Maren stopped walking. “You scare me when you vanish for weeks without warning, and all I hear from you is your voice chanting lullabies that are _so sad_. You scare me on nights when hail knocks on the tents, not because I fear your magic but because I wonder why you’re hurting so.” She took a step, shortened the distance between them and grabbed her hand. “And when I touch you, and for a moment you lean into it, and then you catch yourself and recoil,” She held Elsa’s gaze, “When you’re here and then you’re not. That scares me a lot, Elsa.”

Elsa bowed her head, stared at where their fingers touched. Her skin was cold, almost cold enough to hurt, and when she pulled her hand back, Maren let her slip away. “I have to go,” she said, and didn’t wait for an answer.

_Sometimes as fierce as a mountain lion, sometimes as sharp as a snow fox, sometimes as flighty as a rabbit. _

There in a moment, gone the next. Maren felt something cool brush against her nape, making her skin crawl with goosebumps. When she touched it, her fingers came back damp. She raised her head to the sky, watched snowflakes float down and cover the ground where Elsa had been.

_The weather tells me more about how you feel than you ever do,_ she thought, and pulled her coat closer to her body to protect her against the chilly wind. _I wonder if this is how you weep?_

Maren put her hands in her pockets to warm them and made her way back to the village, shivering.

* * *

Maren left a basket of fruit in the woods every day, whenever Elsa went missing. Whether she needed to eat at all was something Maren wasn’t quite sure, but the food was always gone the next day and she was careful enough to hang it on high branches so that animals couldn’t get to it.

After a week of that, Maren decided to leave the basket with a note. Simple and to the point was the way of dealing with Elsa, after all.

_“Sorry if I pushed you too far,”_ she scribbled, and then after a thought, added “_Miss you._”

She was tending to the reindeer when Elsa materialized from a gust of wind and melancholy. Maren didn’t turn around when she felt the cold, kept on brushing Velvet’s fur.

“I got your message,” Elsa said after a long while in which Maren could feel her eyes drilling a hole on her back. There was no reason for her to be nervous – nothing in the note was particularly incriminating – but she still felt her heart skip a beat.

“And?”

“I can’t read Northruldan.”

“Oh.” Thinking back to it, Maren should have considered that possibility. She felt silly. “I – It’s nothing important.” She gave the reindeer a light slap on the leg to let him know she was done, then turned around. “Good to have you back.”

“Yes, I…” She didn’t make eye contact but took Maren’s hand, cheeks tinted red and fingers trembling. Maren saw her jaw set in determination, saw her raise her gaze so that Maren could look at that piercing blue. “I’m sorry.”

“And you’re not going to run away the next time I remind you that you have feelings?”

Silence. Elsa’s blush got a little deeper, but she didn’t look away. “No promises.”

Maren snorted. “It’s all right.” She traced the side of Elsa’s hand with her thumb. “Witches of the Woods do things like that, sometimes.”

Elsa tilted her head, but didn’t pull away. That was turning out to be the longest physical contact they’ve shared. “Is that what I am?”

“That is for you to say,” Maren turned around without letting go. She scanned the edge where the trees met the open field for the rest of her reindeer flock. “Damn it. Velvet and Sneezy are fine, but Sassy never shows up to get brushed, and she’s the one who gets the dirtiest. I swear she rolls on grass on purpose. I wonder where that bastard of a reindeer is.”

“How do you keep track of them?”

“I’ve known them all my life, so it’s easy for me to tell who is who by the shape of their antlers and the shades of their furs.” Maren shrugged. “They come and go as they see fit, but they’re usually around because I keep them fed and warm.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to keep them in pens?”

“Nah.” Maren turned back to her. “You don’t trap the things you love. Particularly not those which were born wild.” She half-smiled, stared into her eyes for longer than it was polite. “You let them run free, and if your love is good for them, they’ll come back to you.”

Elsa smiled back at her, unexpectedly, and Maren’s heart did a little flip. When she pulled her hand away, Maren took a long, deep breath. “I heard from Anna.”

“Is that so?”

Elsa started walking toward the middle of the plains, and Maren followed after a bit of hesitation. “Yes. I’m going to be an aunt.”

“Congratulations.” She grinned. “If the little tykes have half as much energy as your sister, she’s going to be in trouble. _You_ are going to be in trouble, because you bet she’s going to have you babysitting.”

Elsa laughed, a delightful sound that made her think of running rivers in spring. “I always thought I was the odd one out, you know,” she sat down on the grass, raised her head to the sky. “But it turns out Anna is the maniac pixie in a family of quiet ice-chippers.”

Maren took a seat next to her. “Kristoff is a quiet ice-chipper, too. They might turn out fine.”

“Mmh. They might turn out a little too interested in reindeers.”

“Hey!”

Elsa chuckled again. Maren waited, because she knew Elsa hardly brought things up without a goal, and she had yet to see the whole meaning of the topic. “I also mentioned what you called me, the other day. A heartbreaker.”

Maren felt her heart leap off her chest. Elsa might be oblivious, but her sister was anything but. “What did she say about it?”

“She called me a ‘thick-headed dense idiot,’ among a multitude of other expletives.”

“Uh...” Maren’s cheeks burned. She appreciated Anna’s support, really did, but she also had no idea what to reply to that. “Witches of the Woods are like that, sometimes.”

Elsa grinned but didn’t reply, instead closing her eyes. She started humming. Maren felt a vibration in her body, as if the very air around her reacted to the sound. And then ice began to form around her, plaques that spread from the ground and produced spikes that took shape.

“Ah-ah-ah-ah,” Elsa whispered, and the ragged edges spread and grew into the shape of trees, branches that split into twos and fours and eights with every note, until they were surrounded by a hauntingly beautiful forest. “Ah-ah-ah-ah,” Elsa repeated, and from the branches sprouted pines of crystal, and the ground exploded into sharp blades of grass and delicate flowers.

Maren inhaled, watched the magic unfold. “Hmm-hmm-hmm,” Elsa dropped the pitch, and the trunks of the trees got wider, branches melting together until they no longer looked like trees, but rather like walls. “Hmm-hmm-hmm,” intricate shapes carved themselves on the walls as they grew into spires that reached into the sky. The walls met one another, forming a castle that surrounded them and filled itself with spiraling staircases and chandeliers that spread the light into rainbows.

Elsa opened her eyes.

The structure exploded into a million snowflakes that were swept away by the wind. Maren followed their spirals with wide eyes, gaping, acutely aware of Elsa’s burning stare and crooked smile.

_Did you do this just so you could see the wonder in my face? _

She considered asking it, but chose silence. Elsa bumped their shoulders together.

“Maren?”

There was something sharp about her tone that made Maren turn. “Yes?”

“What did your note say?”

_This is the queen_, she realized, from the way her chin was lifted and her gaze was penetrating. There were many sides to Elsa, like edges in fractals of ice revealed at will. And what Maren was facing right then was the person who demanded rather than asked, who would not take ‘no’ for an answer, who would freeze the ocean over rather than cross it on a boat just because she had the power to. “It said sorry for being pushy. And…”

“And?”

“And that I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Elsa replied, and then she had one hand around Maren’s waist and the other on her nape and their lips were pressed together. Elsa kissed her, fierce, starting on the corner of Maren’s mouth and moving to the middle. She pressed her weight over Maren’s body, deepened the kiss with teeth grazing over her lips. Her skin was cold yet her breath was surprisingly warm, and when her fingers ghosted over Maren’s spine, she shivered.

Elsa pulled away with as little warning as she had given when she started, leaving Maren’s heart drumming. Her ears, her cheeks, her whole face burned. “Elsa –”

“I have to go,” she said, smiling so wide it wrinkled the corners of her eyes. “Not for long. But for a while.” She looked away, tipped her head. Maren could still see the grin on her face, even from that angle. “I’ll come back to you.”

“I – ” she blinked, still stunned. “I’ll leave you some fruits. Same place. Same, uh. Same basket.”

“I like the raspberries and the plums the most,” Elsa stood, extended her arm and sung a single high pitched note. Out of thin air, Nokk materialized, galloping, and Elsa grabbed onto his neck as he passed, the splashes of his hooves matching her exquisite laughter as she rode into the woods.

_Raspberries and plums,_ Maren repeated in her mind, committed the items to memory. She stood, dusted snow from her pants and started walking towards the village. She could swear the reindeer were smiling at her on her way home.

They were smart creatures. Maybe they knew.

_Raspberries and plums. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maren: "and so kids this was how the lesbian ice witch took me into the forest and kissed me and then left laughing like some maniac fae"  
Anna's kids, probably: "yeah sounds like aunt elsa"
> 
> they didn't kiss last chapter so ofc I had to remedy that
> 
> i know Elsa sings for narrative reasons that mostly boil down to 'it's a disney musical'
> 
> but CONSIDER she does actually sing 
> 
> and so people are just hanging around in the forest and suddenly they hear this woman highkey chanting an ELEVEN NOTE GAP and her powerhouse idina menzel voice echoes in the mountains and the air grows colder and the trees sorta freeze and the poor people just softly go _"what the fuck"_
> 
> and maren goes "that's my GIRLFRIEND and i am so turned on right now"
> 
> that's it that's their whole relationship, it's just elsa coming and going and leaving random structures of ice in the middle of lakes and spooking tourists while maren feeds her baskets of food like a weirdass pagan offering
> 
> every once in a year Elsa visits the village or Arendelle or any sort of civilization, probably on like halloween or on the winter solstice or on a lunar eclipse or some shit like that just to add to the myth
> 
> but mostly she just haunts the fucking forest


	3. Chapter 3

It was bound to happen someday. Honeymaren knew it, rationally. But as she walked the streets of Arendelle towards the castle, startled every single time she heard the clanging of armor, she couldn’t stop herself from mentally complaining.

_This is what you get,_ she dodged a speeding cart pulled by reindeer, _this is what you get when you don’t resist the seduction of mythical creatures. _

Not that Arendelle was a bad place – Maren knew she was being unreasonable – but it was filled with, well, _arendellians_, and she couldn’t help but feel a target on her face when anyone as much as looked her way. And there way too many people. It was suffocating.

“I won’t be here forever,” she mimicked Yelana’s voice, “You’ll lead them when I’m gone, Maren. You should make good diplomatic decisions, Maren.” She looked around, lost. It was a fortunate thing that the castle was so damn big, because she doubted she could stop herself from turning back if it went out of sight. “Gods-cursed, thrice-blasted, stupid, stupid place.”

Her footsteps against the stone-paved ground were stressful. The walls of the houses, rising every corner, were stressful. The sounds of talking merchants was stressful. Every time a child screamed she almost jumped off her skin.

_I am so f-cking stressed, _she concluded, grouchy. She sped her step, but just a little in order not to let her anxiety show. It was important to keep appearances on enemy territory, even if she kept trying not to think of them as enemies. They were Elsa’s people, and by extension, her people, despite how her body seemed to disagree.

When she arrived at the castle doors, she was stopped by a pair of guards, because of course there would be guards, _that is the whole point of a castle, Maren –_

Slowly, deliberately, she dusted her shoulders and lifted her chin, then looked at the closest of the men. “I need to speak with the queen.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Maren sized them up. Considered whether she could take them down, if she had to. They were larger, but she was fast and a blow on the right place could do a shocking amount of damage. “I have a message from her sister.”

The guards exchanged a look that carried more than just concern – there was a weird reverence to the way their eyes widened, a mixture of fear and mysticism, the same way Ryder would look whenever she brought Elsa up. It was soothing, in a way, and a little bit of the tension rolled off her shoulders.

“Follow me.” The guards led her to the empty throne room. One of them went inside to call Anna while the other stayed behind with her, and it did not escape her that he kept his hand on his sword all the time.

“Oh, Maren!” From the doorway, Anna clapped her hands together in pure delight. A second later, Maren had the air knocked out of her lungs by a hug that almost made her fall down. Anna grabbed her hands, hopping from one foot to the other. “It is so good to see you!” She scanned the room. “Where’s Elsa?”

“She couldn’t come.” Anna’s expression turned to concern, and Maren was quick to reassure her. “She’s fine. She just had some… magical spirit things to do. I don’t know the details.”

Ana clicked her tongue, then pulled Maren by the hands. “That makes sense.” She stopped on her tracks, turned around to the guards, “Thank you, Bernt, Erik, you may go,” and resumed dragging Maren inside. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes.”

“When I said Kristoff was off on family business, I didn’t mention he was needed for… whatever a family of trolls needs their adopted son for in the first spring equinox of the decade. But I should have known Elsa would have some magical thing to do, too.” Anna shook her head. “I’m not being rude, by the way, I meant actual, literal trolls. Lovely people.”

_The energy of this woman, _Maren blinked, her brain still catching up with Anna’s fast-spoken words. Maren was a people person, sure, but that usually meant _she_ was the one doing all the talking. “Actual trolls,” she repeated. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Right?! My sister is a spirit. My in-laws are trolls. Just a normal day for Anna.” Anna opened the door to a large bedroom. “You didn’t have to come. Dramatic letters aside, I get plenty of help. Agnarr is a lovely boy, anyway. A quiet, peaceful child. Very unlike me.” She smirked. “Reminds me a bit of Elsa, actually.”

“Agnarr. Like your father.”

“Yes. Seemed fitting.” The boy in question was lying on his crib, fast asleep, drooling on a toy. “Sleeps like a log, too.” He had a mop of red hair on his head, but the nose was his father’s.

Maren caught herself smiling at the baby. “Well… it’s not just about the help though, is it? Sometimes it’s also about the company. Being a mom is tough and maybe you just need to talk.” She shrugged. “I’m not your sister, but I can listen.”

Anna beamed at her. She was warm, giddy even, and filled the silence between them with ease. “Exactly! Oh gods, it’s so good to have someone who understands! I’m in desperate need of a girl’s night.” She kicked off her shoes and bounced on the bed, then patted the space next to her. “So be it. You’re my sister for the night. Have a seat.”

Maren crouched down to untie her boots, then placed them near the door. “All right. Tell me all the stories you’ve been dying to tell.” She took a seat. Anna had crossed her legs on top of the bed and was grinning in a way only people who were scheming something ever did.

_She and Elsa are like fire and water, at first glance,_ _but…_

There was something to the two she couldn’t quite put her finger on – the same eagerness to please, the same anxious little tics, little things that told her that despite seeming like screaming opposites, the two had more in common than they had differences. It made Maren think of Ryder and herself, of how she liked dancing where he was clumsy, of how he liked fishing where she lacked the patience.

Of how they were both scared of any unexpected glistening of metal. Of how they both had light steps and a habit of speaking in hushed tones.

She had a sense that Anna and Elsa had, perhaps, been hurt the same way.

“Oh I could go on for hours about the joys and horrors of motherhood, starting with how hard it was to move that baby from here,” she pointed to her belly, “to there. But no. When Elsa refused my invitation but sent you instead, she therefore agreed with being the subject of our talking for the whole night. So, tell me, who is it?”

Maren blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“The suitor! Which one of you is wooing my sister?” Anna was drumming her closed fists on her lap. “Don’t keep me waiting!”

The question was such a shock to Maren, she couldn’t catch her stupid answer before it came out. “You don’t know?!” She realized her mistake a moment too late. “But I thought – I mean – I just –”

“So there _is_ someone!!” She spoke so loud, Maren was afraid she’d wake the baby. True to his reputation, Agnarr remained asleep. “That absolute bastard! Oh, Maren, I love my sister, but she is just _impossible_ sometimes. Can you believe she writes me pages and pages about the trees and the lakes and the mountains – I could pile it all into a geography textbook at this point – and drops me ONE measly line about her love life?!”

Maren nodded very slowly. “I can believe that. That does sound like Elsa.”

“She was just,” Anna rolled her eyes and raised her arms, made quoting signals with her fingers. “Oh Anna, what does it mean when someone calls you a heartbreaker?” Anna arched an eyebrow, gestured with her hands, “So I tell her the obvious, and can you guess what she replied me with?!”

_Don’t blush,_ Maren told herself over and over. “Uhm. More idyllic descriptions of nature?”

“Yes!” Anna slammed her palms on the bed. “And then a ‘Your advice has proven most accurate and useful. Thank you, sister. Love, Elsa’. What does that even mean?! It tells me nothing!”

Maren couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. The situation was surreal, tragic, hilarious, and _oh this is what you get, Maren, when you let yourself fall for a creature of legends. _“I’m sorry, Queen Anna, this is just –”

“Drop the ‘queen’. Sisters for the night, remember? And tell me _who is it!! _Who made the first move? Was there a first move, even? Did they kiss? Oh by the gods, did they kiss?!” Anna shook her head. “Never mind, the important things first, I need a name.”

“I can’t tell you that!” Maren rubbed her face with her hands, partly in exasperation, partly to cover her burning cheeks. “I can keep a secret, remember?”

“Oh come _on_. No one can actually keep a secret. Look –” Agnarr interrupted them with a small yawn, which Anna reacted to by eyeing him and smiling. She still had the softest expression when she turned back to Maren. “Okay, I get it. She’s your friend. Fine. But give me a hint, at least. It’s not telling me if I figure it out myself, right?”

Maren made an indistinguishable sound of suffering and let herself fall on the mattress. “Did you ask her about it?”

“Of course I asked her about it! Over and over. For the last twenty letters or so. I’ve been sending them every day. She replies to each one of them with detailed facts about the local birds. The _nerve_ of that woman. We are sisters and nothing alike.”

“You are sisters and very much alike,” Maren quipped. “Look, maybe… maybe there’s a reason she doesn’t want you to know.”

“Other than Elsa being Elsa, I cannot think of any.”

Maren sighed, rolled to her side to face Anna. “Maybe it’s someone she’s afraid you wouldn’t approve of.” She felt a twinge of anxiety, shoved it to the back of her mind. “Someone unexpected.”

“My first fiancée tried to kill me, and my husband was raised by trolls,” Anna deadpanned. “Is her suitor plotting her murder? Troll upbringing is acceptable.”

“No!” Maren had to bite back a snort. “Look, yes, point taken, it’s just…”

Anna sighed. “Never mind. As much as I want to know, it’s clearly making you uncomfortable. I’ll nag Elsa about it some more.”

_She’s so nice. _Maren felt a little of her resistance crumble. “They did kiss, I’ll give you that.”

She shouldn’t have. Anna was fiendishly smart when she wanted to be, she and Elsa had that in common, and Maren realized her mistake when Anna’s mouth fell into a gape and she could almost hear the gears turning inside her brain.

“She would never tell you that. She’d never tell _anyone_ that, not even me. If Elsa had her way, I’d find out she’s kissing someone from her wedding invite.” Anna tapped her chin. “Which means you heard from the other person. But that’s not the kind of thing you just tell people, either. I know my sister. She wouldn’t fall for the kind of guy to brag. Must be someone close to you.” Her eyes glistened. “It’s your brother.”

_In for a pine, in for the whole gods-damned pine tree, I suppose. _“It’s… not my brother, but that is a good line of thought.”

“Damn it! I thought I had it for sure –” She raised her palm in the air as if to stop herself. “Wait. That wouldn’t be unexpected, though, would it? Ryder is a cute guy who loves reindeer. It would be the proof of a family preference, even.” Anna crossed her arms, tapped her index finger on her skin over and over. “Unexpected. Unexpected. Unexp –” She raised her head, mouth hanging wide. “It’s you.”

Maren blinked, but didn’t reply. Apparently, her silence was answer enough.

“Holy fuck –” Anna cut herself short, covered her mouth, looked at the baby. “Holy… fudge. It _is_ you. You kissed my sister. Oh my go –”

“She kissed me!”

“HOLY FUCK.” This time Agnarr did wake, wailing, and Anna jumped off the bed, picked him up and started pacing around the room. “It makes sense, Elsa never paid attention to men – I can’t imagine what it must have been like to her, the expectation to pick a king – Elsa, why do you never TELL me things – I can’t believe she made the first move –”

Anna hopped from one foot to the other, from one thought to the other. She was having a meltdown, and like most of her emotions, it was contagious. Maren felt the anxiety return tenfold, squeezing at her chest, as suffocating as the tight spaces between the houses in Arendelle made her feel. “So…” she looked at Anna, sheepish. “Do you…approve?”

“Approve?” Anna stood still for a moment, rocked the baby in her arms and hummed, and then she was back with her pacing. “Approve?! I am thrilled! And furious! You came all the way from the… damn magical woods to cover for Elsa’s babysitting duties. I should have been treating you as family!”

“I – weren’t you?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point!” Anna threw her arms up, just a little, enough that Agnarr made a squeak of surprise. “Do you know how long I have been waiting for Elsa to bring a date home? And just look at you! You’re – ” she moved the baby to lean on her shoulder, then used her free hand to gesticulate vaguely. “All responsible and polite and dutiful, but not too stuck up to handle my sister’s crazy antics. You’re perfect! And we are the same size. _We could have been lending each other dresses!_”

“We… have very different tastes. But sure?” Maren had been bunching and un-bunching the bedsheets in her fists, and she made a conscious effort to stand still and take slow, deep breaths.

“The point, Maren!” Anna turned Agnarr around and he stared at Maren with wide eyes. “Elsa knows me. She knew I wouldn’t let you leave without digging for answers. So instead of replying to all my nagging she just – just outright delivers her answer to my door – It’s settled. I am going to _kill_ her. Oh Kristoff is going to love hearing this –”

“He will?” She sat up.

“Yes. More reindeer people in family gatherings.” Anna rolled her eyes. “He had this whole scary speech prepared to give whichever mad bastard went for my sister and now he’ll have to throw it away. It would be rude to do that to a girl, Kristoff is a very gentle soul, and besides he’s a little scared of you.”

It was too much information to process at once. Maren felt as if she had been run over by a dozen carts which then turned around and ran her over again. She told herself to seize the moment. “So… how do I… you know. Talk to her about it? You know her better. I’m a little at loss. I don’t know how arendellians do things.”

Anna halted. Stood perfectly still. “You’re telling me she kissed you,” her tone was dangerous, “And then she sent you here. To meet her family. And she did not properly court you?”

“That is a negative way of putting it,” Maren rubbed her nape. “We had a moment. It was… special. But we didn’t talk about it again, and I’m not sure what to do from here except I really like her and she _does_ look like a real heartbreaker, so –” Anna walked to her, handed her the baby. Maren took him in her arms, and he reached out to touch her face.

She smiled. He smiled back. It was almost enough to distract her from the sounds of Anna furiously marching around the room and dragging a chair. “I’m going to kill her. I am going to –”

Maren put the baby on her lap and watched Anna write a strongly worded letter, knowing nothing she said could change Anna’s mind.

_Her sister is the fifth spirit, _ she mused, making faces at Agnarr, _but she is the real force of nature._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you know who does not, in fact, see Elsa as a siren?
> 
> anna 
> 
> Maren, looking at Elsa's erratic behavior: this is magic  
Anna, looking at that same behavior: this is BULLSHIT


	4. Chapter 4

When Maren came back from fishing, she found Elsa by the campfire, absently making and unmaking tiny snow sculptures of birds. She put down the net she had been carrying on her back and waved.

“Maren.”

“Oh, hey.” She knelt by a basket and pushed it open. Fishing was her least favorite activity when it involved fishing rods and sitting still for extended periods of time, but she didn’t mind retrieving the nets for her brother occasionally. She smiled to Elsa. “Always good to see you.”

Elsa was sitting on a low bench made of pure ice, unreadable as always, tapping her finger over and over. “I heard from Anna.”

“Oh no. No, no, no. Absolutely not.” Maren untied the net open and grabbed her spear. “We are _not_ having a conversation that starts with a letter from Anna without me sitting down. So you’re going to have to wait for me to be done with the fish.”

Elsa graced her with the slightest of smiles. “Do you need help with that?”

Maren ran a fish through with her spear and moved it to the basket. “Nah. I got this. We’re having fish for dinner, if you want.” She took the opportunity to get an answer to a question that had been nagging in her mind. “Do you need to eat at all?”

“Do I – huh.” Elsa crossed her arms and stared off into space for a couple seconds. “I don’t know, actually.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know that?”

“Well, I… I didn’t really stop eating? When I first…” she hesitated. Maren kept on working but gave her a nod to let her know she was still listening. “A few years ago, when I froze Arendelle over – you know that story, don’t you?”

“Not from you, I don’t.”

There was a long moment of silence, but they were comfortable enough with each other that Maren didn’t feel the need to fill it. She finished moving the fish save for the last two, which she saved for dinner. She stuck the spear on the ground and moved to get a knife.

“I…” Elsa began, stopped, sighed. “It feels a little like an itch. The magic, I mean. Except it never passes, it just grows stronger and stronger, this need to – to create. Like hunger or sleep. I need to let it out, to build things, to let it flow, else it keeps swirling inside me, suffocating, until it’s all I can think about and I start going a little mad.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”

Maren smiled, arched her eyebrows. “You’re an artist.”

“I’m – what?”

“An artist. That’s an artist’s impulse. I dabble in a bit of sculpting myself, I get the urge sometimes. But you should see Yelana. If she goes too long without painting, she gets insufferable.” Maren sat down near the fire, grabbed the knife and began scraping the scales off the fish. “It’s like you said. Food, but for the soul.”

“An artist.” Elsa looked at her hands, spun her index finger, watched a little flurry form. There was a change in her eyes then, and she raised her gaze with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Maren caught herself beaming back at her, felt her cheeks burn and forcibly returned her attention to making dinner. “You’re welcome.” It was a rare thing for Elsa to open up, and so she decided to push a little further. “So, what about the itch?”

“My… parents weren’t as understanding as you.” She closed her hands into fists, dispelling the snowflakes. “I – thinking back to it, what with the way my grandfather saw magic, it’s no surprise that father shared his fear, particularly after I - this isn't easy.” She shrugged. “The itch went unscratched… for a very long time.”

Maren dug a small hole on the ground. “Recipe for disaster?”

Elsa nodded. She was rubbing her hands together, downcast. “I suppose. There was more to it. They kept me away from Anna… from everyone, really. I don’t –” She made brief eye contact, then looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Maren acquiesced. She cut the fish open, dumped the entrails on the hole and used her foot to push earth over it so that animals wouldn’t catch the scent. “So, food?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t need it, when I spent a week on an ice castle in the mountain. I guess I’ve been eating out of habit.” She clenched her jaw and looked away.

_It makes you feel human,_ Maren frowned, considered her next words carefully. “Well, I’m glad I get to cook for you.” She smiled. “Just don’t get anywhere near Ryder’s food. He’s awful.” Elsa gave her a grateful face and a nod. Maren finished salting the fish, then put them over the fire and stretched her arms. “You mentioned Anna wrote.”

“Anna.” Elsa licked her lips, an uncharacteristic malice in her eyes. She stood, walked over to Maren. “Anna thinks I’ve been very rude to you. That I should, and I quote, ‘court you like a proper queen’.” Elsa swirled her finger and a crystal rose appeared in the air. She took it, bent down and carefully slid it on top of Maren’s hat. “Like so.”

“I –” She took a deep, shaky breath, considered whether she should stand up. “You don’t have to. I mean, if you want to, that would be fantastic, but. I don’t mean to pressure you.” She couldn’t meet Elsa’s eyes. “I just – I like your company, that’s all. We’re good friends. It’s not like I want to be introduced as the royal consort or anything.”

Elsa laughed, then crouched down to match her height. Even so, she was taller. She slid a hand under Maren’s chin, tilted it up and pressed their lips together for a split second, then pulled away, fingers moving to trace Maren’s jaw. “And this?”

Her heart was drumming so hard it hurt. It took her a moment to remember how to speak. “This. This is nice, too.”

“Mhm.” Elsa arched a single eyebrow, her face maddingly impassive, then sat down next to her. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so…erratic.”

Maren tentatively brushed her fingers against Elsa’s. There was no recoil, so she rubbed her thumb against Elsa’s knuckles. “You are, though, aren’t you? Erratic. A little weird. I think it’s beautiful.” Elsa interlaced their fingers. Maren felt giddy. “And I think… well. Since you are that way, you might as well mean it.”

Elsa stared at her, scrutinized her, then bent her head and leaned it against Maren’s chest. Maren made a strangled sound of surprise, and Elsa chuckled. “We should do it.”

Maren straightened her back and caught her breath. Her mind had far too many ideas about what ‘it’ could be, so she decided to play it safe. “Do what?”

“Introduce you as the royal consort. I don’t see why not. If you want to, of course.”

“Oh.” Maren tentatively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m puzzled by the idea, really. I was under the impression that you found the formalities of monarchy suffocating. It sounds like the kind of thing which would be uncomfortable for everyone involved.” Maren thought it over. “Except for Anna. Anna would have the time of her life.”

Elsa chuckled. She was in a good mood, and not unlike with her sister, it was infectious. “It would. But I think it would be a growing experience for me. I’ve spent my whole life worried that I was… unnerving people.” She bumped their shoulders together. “But you know what? You’re right. I’ll unnerve them one way or the other, might as well mean it. It’s harmless. A little amusing, even.”

“Uh.” Elsa’s head was tucked under Maren’s chin. She wanted to bend down, plant a kiss on her scalp. She talked herself in and out of the idea. “I fear I might have just pushed you from forest siren to poltergeist.”

Elsa tilted her head up. Grinned. Looked at Maren’s lips in a way that was slow and teasing and deliberate. Maren reached up to touch her face, but got her hand slapped away. “Nah-ah. Fish fingers. Disgusting.”

“The _nerve_ of y –”

Elsa kissed her again, this time grabbing her shoulder and pressing her weight against her. Maren let herself be pushed down and Elsa rolled on top of her, knocking the air off her lungs. She parted her lips when Elsa licked them, whimpered when Elsa rolled her hips and then moved to kiss her jaw. Maren turned her head to the side, exposed her neck to Elsa’s gentle bites –

The fire crackled. Her thoughts were clouded and she forced herself to focus. “I –” _deep breath, count to ten,_ “I need to turn the fish around, so that they don’t burn one side and stay raw on the other.”

Elsa let out a snarl and threw her arm back. A wave of ice slipped from her fingers, grew into spikes that hit the bonfire and made it sizzle out, plunging them in near complete darkness.

Maren pushed herself halfway up. “No! Elsa! It’s the forest in the middle of the night and you just froze dinner and put out the fire –”

Elsa pressed her face into Maren’s shoulder and broke into a fit of giggles. Maren laughed too, went down on her back, gasped for breath in between each outburst. “I’m serious!” She tried. Laughed some more. “I’m hungry! It’ll get cold! And you never stay the night, what am I supposed to do about the wolves? My hands smell of fish guts!”

Elsa controlled herself, clicked her tongue a few times and followed it with a long whistle. A moment later, blue flame sparkled on the middle of the camping grounds. Maren sat up and went to check on her fish, which was dripping with molten ice. “Soggy dinner,” she complained, flipping it around so it could finish cooking.

She went for her pack, picked up her bedroll and extended it. Elsa watched her from the ground, where she sat hugging her knees, cheek resting on top of them, a sly smile curling up her lips.

“Why did it take you so long?” Maren sat next to the cushion, wondering about how to offer it to Elsa in a way that she would accept. “Or is this how it is going to be, hmm?” she bumped her shoulder on Elsa’s. “You kiss me once a year?”

Elsa shrugged. “I’m shy.”

_You’ve got to be kidding me._ “Should I have made a move, then?”

Elsa lifted her head, slowly, eyes narrowed, smile widening just enough to show her teeth, and _oh, she knows what she is doing. She knows how to be unnerving. _“No.” She tilted her head to the side, just a little, and the light from the campfire cast odd shadows on her face. “Make no mistake. I am shy, but I am still the hunter. I am still the queen.”

Her voice had dropped in pitch just enough to be noticeable. Maren swallowed, pulled off her gloves and unbuttoned her coat, feeling oddly warm. “Is this how it is for Arendellians, then? A hunt?”

“This is how it is to me.” She licked her lips, then stretched, and the vague, menacing energy around her dispelled so fast it made Maren dizzy. Elsa picked Maren’s hat from where it had fallen on the ground, dusted it clean and placed it on her head. “I think your fish is done.”

It was, and the two ate in silence, their arms and hands occasionally touching. When they were done, they wiped their hands clean and Maren opened her mouth to suggest Elsa take the bedroll, but Elsa spoke first.

“I’ll let Anna know we’re going, so she can make the preparations.”

“If it’s no bother.”

“You know very well it is anything but.” Elsa sighed. “She’ll love to hear it. She’ll want to dress you up, too, educate you in all manner of pointless etiquette.”

“Do you think – ” she hesitated. “Will the people take it well? I’m an outsider. I might not know how to behave.”

“I’m an outsider, too.” Elsa lost her gaze in the fire. “But if it worries you so, I could educate you in proper manners. I know you hold a position of leadership among your – among our people. Might be useful for you to know, one way or the other.”

“I’d like that.” Maren bit her bottom lip, trying to figure out how to ask the obvious, screaming question. “Elsa. Will that make me… will that make us…” she trailed off. She had no idea how to finish that sentence, no clue about the significance of that foreign rite. “That makes us what?”

Elsa let out a long groan. “It’s complicated. Were I still queen, my suitors and then my marriage would need to be allowed by my parents. Since they’re gone, the approval would depend on the parliament. A princess, though, only needs the queen’s approval. That’s why I had to go back to Arendelle before abdicating. To save Anna and Kristoff the bureaucratic nightmare they’d have to go through otherwise.” She rolled her eyes. “The opposite applies. I gave up the throne, but I’m still princess. So, odd as that is, you need to… ask Anna whether you can court me.”

Her distaste for the entire concept was evident. Maren blinked. “Right. I have to impress Anna, then. And, suppose she allows me to vie for your affections –” Elsa scowled, and Maren had to hold back a snort, “Then what?”

“Then you’re a royal suitor. Courting process usually lasts a couple years, in which the queen-approved suitors all try to win the heart of the princess.”

“Great. Competition”

“Mmhm. You better start worrying about those fish hands.” Playfulness was a rare thing, from her, and Maren couldn’t help but think it suited her well. “The princess gradually sends the suitors home, until only one remains. That’ll be the royal consort, up to when they get married.”

“If Anna lets you,” Maren teased, and Elsa snarled in response. She laughed, reached out for Elsa’s hand. “Wow. I cannot see how any of that would bring you happiness.”

“It didn’t. I felt trapped all the fucking time.”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you curse,” Maren pointed out, smiled a little. “Thank you.”

“For cursing?”

“For letting me in.” She leaned, rested her head on Elsa’s shoulder, played with her fingers. “Absurdity aside,” she struggled to put her feelings into words, “What are we?”

“I don’t know. Putting labels on things makes me anxious. I like you. Isn’t that enough?”

Maren scoffed. Elsa wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her scalp. She shivered at Elsa’s gentle nuzzling and closed her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ people who think elsa is a bottom: _f o o l s_
> 
> Anna receiving the letter to prepare for an announcement like "fucking finally, nothing gets done if I don't intervene, imma schedule it for tomorrow before elsa changes her mind"
> 
> the biggest challenge on writing elsa opening up is keeping the standoffish vibe she gets because it's not "I'm a human sharing my story", it's "I was human, once"
> 
> hopefully I managed to capture that vibe
> 
> thanks to everyone for all the support with this story <3


	5. Chapter 5

Maren tried on a dozen of Anna’s dresses before finally settling for a much simpler, more comfortable suit. The occasion dictated a hundred of formalities which she knew she should have studied ahead, but instead ended up memorizing poorly the night before. She vaguely regretted this decision every time she took a wild guess on whether to call someone “your excellency” or “your grace”.

Anna, bless her soul, was more than happy to cover for both her slip ups and the invariable escapades she needed every time the presence of so many Arendellians became too much. After one hour schmoozing with Arendelle’s nobles, Maren was more than ready to leave. After two, she decided Elsa was indeed right in freezing half the continent over. After three, she was seriously considering the possibility of a timely escape by jumping through the window.

Maren was filling what had to be her sixth glass of punch – an admittedly dangerous survival strategy – when she bumped arms with Kristoff. Her brain flip-flopped between ‘your majesty’ and ‘your highness’ for a second, but the punch was perhaps a little stronger than what she expected and what came out her mouth instead was just “So, reindeers, huh?”

Kristoff turned to look at her. “Reindeers,” he repeated. His suit was similar to hers, but adorned with three times as many unnecessary appendages. His hair had been combed back in a ridiculous fashion. When he turned around to look at the room, Maren could swear she saw the light inside him fade a little. “Reindeers are better than people.”

“You can say that again,” she muttered and took a sip of her drink. Her eyes scanned her surroundings. It would be overwhelming, being around that many people, but her senses had been thankfully dulled by alcohol. One person was notably absent, and try as she might, she was unable to lessen her anxiety. “Do you think she’ll show?”

“Elsa?” He shrugged. “It would be just like her to miss her own courtship announcement, except I don’t think she’ll leave you hanging. She just takes her sweet time, that’s all –“ There was a loud banging as the large wooden doors were thrown open, knocking a pair of nobles on the way. The room was abruptly filled with frosty wind. “Speak of the devil. Or, well. The spirit.”

Elsa walked in, clad in a dress of pure white. The cloth, if it were even cloth, seemed to flow over her body in constantly shifting flurries of ice. Her hair had been made into a complicated updo held together by long pins of ice, and her hands were covered by simple purple gloves that did not match the rest of the outfit and made the whole picture jarring.

The people fell into silence when she walked in, slowly, face expressionless, blue eyes of piercing white. She made a dismissive gesture with her hand and the door slammed shut. Half the nobles jumped at the sound. The other half seemed too stunned to move.

_And here’s the queen_, Maren watched her move, bits of ice forming around her feet. The people shivered when she passed, yet no one dared break the silence that gripped them like a held breath, until –

“Elsa!” Anna pushed a pair of men from her way and ran to her sister at a speed that should not be possible for someone in high heels. When Elsa spotted her, part of the hardness melted away from her face, and her lips curled into the lightest of smiles.

She opened her arms and caught Anna’s half-hug, half tackle. With the spell of Elsa’s presence broken, the room broke into murmurs at first, and then full blown conversation.

“Look at that entrance,” Kristoff elbowed Maren on the ribs and grinned. “And I thought Anna was one for theatricals. Your girl is quite the hurricane, isn’t she?”

_My girl_, the thought made her blush more than usual and she blamed it on the punch. Maren cleared her throat. “She’s like a cat,” she shrugged. “Makes herself big and scary when she feels threatened.”

Kristoff patted his hand on her shoulder. He was large enough that even the goofy gesture almost threw her off balance. “Well, you should…” he hesitated. “Damn it. This is hard because you’re not a guy. I don’t know what advice to give.”

“Try me. I’m already in a suit, anyway.”

“You know, just,” He looked at her, grinned, and she realized from the way his movements were careless that his survival in the party was as alcohol-dependent as her own. “Just. Be strong and mean around her so she feels safe, you know? Puff up your chest. Have a big presence. Snarl at the nobles! Scares the predators away and whatnot.”

“Is that what you do around Anna?” Maren could not stop herself from grinning.

He gave a very serious nod, and then deflated and chuckled. “That’s what Anna does so _I _feel comfortable, more like.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m just trying to be a cool, manly guy.”

“Sweet and goofy suits you better,” she elbowed him back.

He smiled, took a sip from his glass. “So I’m told.” He put his drink down. “Look, I don’t know if what works for _my_ Arendellian sister will work for _your_ Arendellian sister –“

“Possibly. They aren’t that different.”

“Exactly!” He nodded, excited. “So what I do when Anna is not having a good time is I square up my shoulders and lift my chin, yeah? To show I’m not intimidated by the angry face –“

“Uh huh.”

“ – as if it weren’t the most terrifying thing I’ve seen in my life. And I walk up to her and I give her one big, tight hug.” He stumbled forward, wrapped his arms around Maren and squeezed. “Like this. Big tight hug.”

“Oof,” Maren bumped her forehead on Kristoff’s shoulder and laughed. “I get it, I get it.” He let her down and she steadied herself on the table, still giggling. “Okay.” She looked at Elsa next to her sister, talking to a couple ambassadors whose crests she did not recognize.

“Shouldn’t have crammed the whole etiquette booklet in a night,” she muttered, then patted Kristoff on the shoulder. But Anna was around and Maren’s head was fuzzy, so she decided to count on her for a save. “Thanks, Kristoff.”

She could tell Elsa was uncomfortable because of the erratic shifts in her body language – sometimes over the top expressive and then immediately stiff and retracted – and she could tell by the way Elsa’s laughter was too quiet, at the wrong pitch. But mostly, she could tell it because of the gloves.

The gloves bothered her, not just because Elsa had beautiful hands, but because she’d hinted before at their significance. Maren hadn’t asked for the full story – she found that Elsa would grant her that by her own will when she felt comfortable sharing – but the way Anna’s eyes kept drifting to the purple cloth told her all she needed to know.

She approached Elsa from behind, gently touched her on the shoulder and waited for Elsa to turn and recognize her. When she saw Elsa’s lips curl into a smile in recognition, she wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. Elsa was taller, but Maren had just enough height to rest her chin on Elsa’s shoulder.

“Oh.” Elsa tensed for a moment, then Maren felt her exhale and her muscles relax.

Anna looked at them, then at the ambassadors who were exchanging glances of confusion and awe, then back at them and rolled her eyes so quick Maren could have missed it. “Ah! Gentlemen, what a rare thing to witness. This is a traditional way for the Northruldan to greet a revered spirit.”

She could _feel_ Elsa’s grin widen at the sloppy excuse, and though she could not see it from her position, she could perfectly visualize the glint of mischief in her eyes. “I was looking for you, Honey.”

“- Maren,” Anna completed. “Honeymaren. That’s her name. To which Honey is a perfectly adequate nickname, among the Northruldan. Maren, meet Quinn of Corona and Cedric, from Enchancia.”

“Pleased to meet you, Honeymaren of the Northrulda.” One of the men extended his hand, and Maren reluctantly let go of Elsa and stepped forward to shake it. “I would love to hear more of your culture.”

“Our culture,” Anna smiled, but her tone was sharp. “We share blood with them, Elsa and I, though we only learned that recently. I’m still educating myself on our values. You know what I appreciate the most, though?” Anna caught Maren’s eyes, glaring daggers at her. “How important it is to _not ruin a surprise.” _

There was some vindictive joy in watching Anna struggle to cover up their intimacy, and Maren allowed herself to have that bit of fun in an otherwise exhausting scenery.

“How do you like the party so far?” Elsa wrapped one arm around her shoulder. Anna scowled at the two, sticking out her tongue after making sure the ambassadors weren’t looking.

“A bit overwhelming,” she admitted, leaning onto Elsa’s shoulder. “I like the music, though.” She trailed her eyes to the corner of the room, where a man played the piano. It was the first time she’d seen one, and the sound was an absolute marvel.

Elsa turned, looked at her. “The piano? It is a delightful instrument.”

“Oh, Elsa, play her a song!” Anna chirped with a sly smile. “Elsa is such a good player, Maren, I used to sit by the door and listen to her practice for hours! She’s got the most skilled fingers, I’m sure you must have noticed –”

“Anna!” Elsa snapped, and Maren saw a tint of pink to her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “It’s been a while since I last played, that’s all.”

“Nonsense,” One of the ambassadors, whose name she'd already forgotten, waved her off. “Playing the piano is like skiing – once learned, one can never forget it.”

“It’s not,” Elsa muttered under her breath. “It requires a lot of continued effort. And I don’t even have sheets. I’d miss so many notes, playing things by ear.”

“Still,” Maren touched Elsa’s fingers which currently rested on her shoulder. “I’d like to see it. Doesn’t have to be perfect. And you’re so good when you sing. You have a great ear, I’m sure it’ll be fantastic.”

“I –“

“Come on, sister,” Anna tugged Elsa by the wrist. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint our very special guest, would you?”

“Fine,” Elsa hissed through her teeth, and Anna clapped her hands in delight.

Maren watched her walk to the piano and gently tap the pianist on the shoulder. He interrupted the music to hear her, and a moment later, he stood to let Elsa take his seat. Elsa carefully pressed a key, then the one next to it and the next, until she’d gone through one full scale. She stepped on one of the piano’s three pedals and did it again, and Maren noticed with fascination that the notes hung in the air much longer.

Elsa pulled off her gloves and rested them on top of the piano, then cracked her fingers. She played a single rich, grave note, and the room immediately fell into silence. And then she struck the note again with her left hand and started the song. She alternated between a grave and a small, ascending scale at first, picking up speed with impeccable precision.

“Wow,” Maren muttered, starstruck, awed by the sheer melancholy conveyed on these first few seconds. The pianist who played before was good, but Elsa conveyed emotion with the softness she pressed the keys and the press-and-release of the pedals.

“You’ve seen nothing,” Anna stood next to Maren, grinning, a glass of punch between her fingers. “Wait until she gets into it.”

There was a tension to the music, the way the notes climbed up and then were abruptly broken by a low note immediately followed by a high only to climb back to the low. It made Maren hold her breath, and as she watched, Elsa closed her eyes and began swaying her body. With each cycle, the scale got higher, until Elsa cycled three high notes over and over and then slammed her hand on the key.

A bright beam of magic shot from her fingers up to the roof and exploded into gentle snowflakes. Elsa’s left hand played a loop of grave notes over and over, while the right led a quick-paced melody. Frost began covering the walls, with delicate fractals etching over its surface.

“Holy f-“ Maren cut herself short, reminded herself she was in a formal situation, “ – wow.”

Every now and then, she’d strike the keys with more strength than usual and produce a ripping deep sound, and when she did it, the shapes on the walls would change pattern, from circles to intricate branching lines to spirals. The guests gaped. Anna hummed the melody under her breath. “I love this one.”

Elsa climbed a whole scale with each hand, and the juxtaposition made it seem like the notes were chasing each other. Then she played several high notes in a row and paused for a split second, just enough for it to seem like the song might end –

She hit her right hand on the keys hard, the sound echoing in the room and sending shivers up Maren’s spine, then repeated the initial melody but faster. The frost crawled from the walls to around the candles that lit the room, and the ice wrapping itself around them made the light decompose into rainbows that flickered over the guest’s faces.

_This is magical,_ Maren thought as a thick mist began rising from the floor. She turned to Anna, eyes wide in a mix of confusion and reverence, and when Anna noticed, she gave Maren a thumbs up and mouthed out _‘Enjoy’. _

And then she was gone, the fog vanishing her entirely even though they were barely two steps away. Being lost in a mist would have given Maren anxiety, except she could still hear the piano and still see Elsa play. The sounds somehow seemed louder, and she was sure there was laughter with them, and sculptures of pure light took shape around her.

She turned around to follow their bouncing and shifting, from trees to rocks to reindeer to horses and castles. The song slowed down and so did the shapes. When Maren finished turning a full circle around herself, she was met with a silhouette, a ghostly projection of Elsa’s shape who gently took her hand.

Maren felt her heart quicken, though whether it was at the cold touch or because the music suddenly picked up again, she did not know. Elsa – the real, physical version – looped the song’s high-pitched melody over and over. The phantom raised Maren’s hand above her head, placed another hand on her waist and stepped sideways, pulling Maren with her into a dance.

Maren knew dancing, but not like that. Elsa stopped playing with her right hand and looped the same deep four notes with her left. After seven rounds of it, she resumed playing with her right, a slightly different melody. The ghost whooshed her around the ballroom, led a dance that sometimes missed other guests by mere inches.

The music slowed down, and so did their steps. The mood, previously a crescendo that made her tremble with energy, shifted to a deep melancholy. The light projection guided her into a rhythm, right foot ahead, spin, left foot back, spin, side step, and then over and over again. And then the song descended into lower notes like a staircase and Maren held her breath in trepidation.

The phantom Elsa took a step back from her, held both her hands at waist height, then raised the right one and led her through a half-spin that halted with her back to the ghost’s arm. Then there was a rich, high pitched note, and suddenly Maren felt a warm breath on her nape and her hand was gripped with much more strength as she was led backwards into the spin.

When she turned around, Elsa, the real, physical version, had switched places with her double and was smiling at her. One of Elsa’s hands looped around her waist. The music melted back into the original melody, and the two were moving again, faster and faster. Elsa pushed her back and then yanked her close again, leading her into a loop as she did it.

Elsa leaned forward, pushed her, and Maren let her weight fall against Elsa’s arms only to be pulled back up and into another spin. The music entered its final stage, repeating its four high notes and then descending into grave ones which used less and less keys, until the very last sound faded into silence.

Elsa grabbed her face, fingers tight over her jawline, and pulled her into a kiss.

The mist fell away like a curtain, and the room burst into a roar of cheers and applause.

“Gentlefolk,” Anna rose her voice loud enough to be heard despite the noise, and the guests went quiet, “Introducing Honeymaren of the Northrulda, with my blessings, your newest royal suitor.”

The crowd broke into a murmur and Maren felt her cheeks heat up again. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, even though the speech she’d prepared the night before in between cramming sessions eluded her. Elsa wrapped one arm around her waist and winked at her sister. Anna replied by rolling her eyes and nodding, and Elsa made a quick motion with her arm.

The two were swept by a wind that picked them off the floor, spinning, and took them through the castle doors and into the city. Maren clung on for dear life while Elsa laughed, until they finally came to a stop by the pier. Her heart drummed in exhilaration and raw adrenaline. She tripped, almost fell into the water, the world still spinning under her feet.

Elsa grabbed her by the wrist, pulled her close. “Thank you for coming today and bearing with all this… theatrics.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” Maren leaned against her chest.

“Really?”

“Nah. It was pretty awful. Let’s never do this again. Except for the piano part. That was really nice.” She hid her face on the crook of Elsa’s neck. “I’m tipsy.”

“I noticed.” She snorted. Maren felt her cold fingers on her nape and shivered. She tilted her head up, and Elsa kissed her scalp. “Do you want to go home? I can take you through… well, magic wind. We’d get there really quick.”

“No!” Maren jumped. “No more magic wind. Anna has a room prepared for me.”

Elsa laughed, then tucked a stray strand of hair behind Maren’s ear, hand lingering to stroke her cheek. “Stay on mine. Let me hold you to sleep. I –“ She looked away, paused. “I don’t like sleeping alone. Not here.” Another pause. “Hurts.”

“Yeah, sure. But no cold feet on me.”

“No promises.”

“You’re awful.” Maren rubbed her eyes. “Won’t the nobles gossip about it in the morning?”

“Possibly.” Elsa shrugged. “Fuck them.”

“Ha.”

“Let Anna deal with them. She had far too much fun tonight.” Elsa’s fingers combed the short curls on the base of her head. Maren felt a dull ache on her chest.

“Elsa?”

“Mm?”

“I –“ Maren cut herself short, hesitated. Some things were better said sober, and spirits of the forest were easy to scare away. “Do you know how to make coffee?” she asked instead.

“I – huh. Yes.” Elsa blinked. “It’s not the best coffee, but it’s. A coffee. I suppose. Why?”

“Have to introduce you to my parents,” she mumbled. “You need someone to speak in your favour, I, uh, Ryder could do that. And then you ask to make them coffee. That’s how you show you’re, um, courting me.”

“Oh.”

“And I have to stay outside and… unsaddle your reindeer. To show I like you, too.” She considered that for a moment. “I suppose your water elemental horse works, too.”

“Nokk doesn’t wear a saddle.”

_Of course he doesn’t,_ Maren thought, _And I just asked the fifth spirit if she knows how to make coffee. _“We’ll figure something out. Maybe I’ll make him a nice… necklace. Of… seashells. Or something.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Elsa echoed. “Can’t be much worse than this mess I dragged you into. Although, I’ll say,” She pulled away, ran her eyes over Maren from head to toe. “You do look nice in a suit.”

Again the burning on her ears. Again the squeeze in her heart. “Thank you. You do look nice on… anything. You look nice, period.”

“Flatterer.”

“I just have eyes.”

“You’re adorable.” Elsa held her face again, but instead of going for a kiss, she just bumped their noses together and rubbed them, then pulled away. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Feelings.”

“What does that even mean?”

Elsa shrugged. “Nothing I’m ready to talk about. We should get going. It’s late and it’s getting chilly. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

“You’re like a walking blizzard,” Maren pointed out.

“Which supports my point – that you shouldn’t be exposing yourself to extra chills.” Maren stuck out her tongue. Elsa whacked her gently on the head. “Stubborn. Don’t talk back to me.”

“Bite me.”

“Only between walls.”

“I – what?” Her brain tried to catch up, but Elsa’s laughter broke her concentration.

“Nothing.” Elsa turned around, a smirk on her lips, and started walking back to the castle.

“No, seriously, what does that _mean?” _Maren chased behind her.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Elsa winked, “When the alcohol wears off in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the more enthusiastic about classical music among you folk must have imagined several songs that elsa could be playing during this scene; it works well with prestos and waltzes 
> 
> the less enthusiastic about classical music might just wanna know what the song was and in that case I'll say it was written having in mind the ups and downs of chopin's Polonaise in A-flat major, Op. 53, also known as heroic polonaise. It's a fantastical piece that requires extreme skill because chopin was a miserable sadboy and all his pieces are fucking torture
> 
> but imma be honest to y'all and just confess that I actually wrote the scene listening to a piano cover of despacito
> 
> "buttons what was your reference for piano playing?"  
i play
> 
> "buttons what was your reference for the dancing?"  
i also dance
> 
> anyways enjoy y'all, thanks for everyone following and supporting this story <3


	6. Chapter 6

The castle was oddly well illuminated, considering it was the middle of the night. Maren followed the long corridor until it ended, always keeping her left hand to the wall so that she’d know how to come back. She hadn’t planned on a late escapade, but she woke up thirsty from overdoing the alcohol and even though Elsa had been thoughtful enough to keep water in the bedroom, Maren’s headache wouldn’t let her get back to sleep.

She stopped by the steps of a long staircase, touched the pristine rail, looked back to Elsa’s room. She wasn’t used to buildings that big, and in the quiet darkness, the place felt oddly hollow. A few paintings on a side corridor caught her eyes, and she made her way to them, almost spooking herself off her skin when she crossed a mirror and jumped at the movement of her own reflection.

With the moonlight shining through the balcony’s glass door, she had no trouble identifying the faces of Elsa, Anna and Kristoff, posing next to Olaf and Sven. Anna’s wide smile contrasted sharply with the small curl of Elsa’s lips, her expression cold and formal, posing in a pristine white dress.

And then, next to it, something even more fascinating: a picture of the sisters, much younger this time, and a couple which Maren assumed were their parents. It was a bit surreal, seeing a child version of Elsa, mostly because Maren had never given thought to what she must have been as a kid. On impulse, she reached out to brush her fingers against the canvas –

“Do you think I’ve changed a lot?”

“Aah!! Motherfu-” Maren covered her own mouth, muffled her high-pitched yelp, heart drumming, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Why aren’t you asleep? And how do you even move so quietly?!”

“I float in the air so you can’t hear my footsteps.” Elsa smiled, bumped their shoulders, and Maren honestly could not tell whether she was being serious. “And,” she shrugged, “I don’t usually sleep very well. I could ask the same of you.”

“I have a hangover,” Maren admitted, shoved her hands on her pockets to warm them, turned back to Elsa. She compared the person in the pictures to the woman standing before her. “You look… happier, I think.”

“Hm.” There was something to her expression, the way she set her jaw and narrowed her eyes, that made Maren feel there were words unspoken.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Elsa stared at the paintings for a second longer before blinking and turning to Maren, as if only just realizing she was there. “No. No, I was just…” She sighed. “Is it wrong to resent my parents?”

They were going into uncharted territory, and Maren hesitated. “Probably not. Parents usually mean well with children, but often the intentions matter less than the results.” She paused. “Is that something you’d like to talk about? Your parents?”

Elsa turned around, walked to the balcony doors and pushed them open with practiced ease. Maren followed her outside, into the cold nip of the wind. Below them, Arendelle slept. “I’m not sure what there is to say.” She leaned against the balcony rail. “I have a hard time talking feelings.”

It wasn’t an outright refusal, so Maren decided to push a little further. “You think too much. Just say whatever comes to mind.” She elbowed Elsa on the ribs. “I’m your official suitor now, you can share.”

Elsa snorted. “Whatever comes to mind.”

“Yes. I won’t judge.” She touched the back of her hand to Elsa’s, let her interlace their fingers. “What is it about your parents?”

“They fucked me up.”

Maren blinked. “That’s an eloquent way of putting it.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge,” Her tone was accusing but she gave Maren a playful smile. “They did, though. Fuck me up, I mean. Keeping me away from the world, from my sister, making me feel as if there was something wrong with me. Making me feel…” Her gaze was lost on the horizon. Maren waited for her to finish. “…less than human.”

Maren bumped their shoulders, but didn’t speak. She let the words settle down between them, rubbed her thumb on the side of Elsa’s hand. Elsa drummed her free fingers on the railing. “Some days, I think they loved me.”

“And on the other days?”

“On the other days, I think they loved an idea of me. A person that never existed. Even by the end, when they left to –“ She stopped. Maren squeezed her hand. Below them, the ocean’s waves ricocheted against walls of stone. “They were always looking for ways so I could adequate myself to… their lives. I’m not sure if they ever looked for ways to make me happy. I’d like to tell myself they just didn’t know how.”

“But?”

“But they never even asked. And I told myself not to be selfish, but…”

“Your parents should be looking out for you, not the other way around,” Maren concluded. She looked at Elsa’s stone- face expression, the slightest of frowns creasing her brow, the way her blue eyes were cold and hard.

_Give her a hug,_ Kristoff’s voice echoed in her head, clear as day in the middle of blurry memories, and she wrapped an arm around Elsa’s waist. Elsa’s gaze softened, just a little, and she granted Maren a slight nod.

“Sometimes I catch myself wondering whether they’d be proud of me,” Elsa took a deep breath. “And I hate myself for it. Because I’d like to think they would, I tell myself so, but…” She bit her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t be telling myself they’d love me for what I am. I should remind myself that _I_ love the way I am, and that the rest shouldn’t matter. They’re long gone, anyway.”

“It’s not a bad thing to seek approval,” Maren leaned into her chest. “It’s only natural. People aren’t meant to be alone. And you were just a kid.”

“You know what hurts the worst, though?” She was weeping then, glistening tears running on her cheeks, “When the time came, when I had to stand up for myself, I realized I could do it. I could handle the whole world against me. But this? The eternal questioning of whether the one love meant to be unconditional just… wasn’t?” She took a deep, shaky breath, wiped the corners of her eyes with her sleeve. “It fucked me up.”

Maren looked down to the ocean, where the waves climbed higher, crashed harder against the shore. The cold nip in the air had turned frosty. “It sounds like they could have done a lot of things differently.”

Elsa scoffed, cleared her throat. “Yeah. They could. It wasn’t even so bad, in the end, look at me,” It was a figure of speech, but Maren looked anyway, “This is it. The thing everyone was so terrified of, the plentitude of my magic when I don’t repress myself. What do I do with it?” She grit her teeth, exhaled. “Talking snowmen. Ice sculptures. I make _art._ How terrifying.” She sighed. “I’m being unfair to them, aren’t I?”

“Mmh.” Maren considered it for a moment. “For sure. It’s an unfair situation all around. I suppose I could defend them, if you want, but I’m here to take your side on things, aren’t I?”

“Only if my side is reasonable.”

“Well, then. It’s reasonable to be angry. Be angry.”

“I – thanks.” Elsa turned to her, offered a small smile. Maren felt a dull ache in her chest. “For listening. For being by my side. It means the world to me.”

“That’s because you mean the world to me.” And maybe it was the sleep deprivation, the weird moonlight or the remaining traces of alcohol in her blood, but Maren felt especially brave. “I love you.”

Elsa’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “I –“

“Nope,” Maren raised her palm. “No need to say it back. No panicking. No galloping away on water elementals. I love you. That’s it. A statement of fact, if you will. Just accept it. No need for skittish nonsense.”

Elsa smiled then, arched an eyebrow at her. “You’re spending far too much time with Anna. If you keep that up, you’ll end up forgetting that I’m the magical fifth spirit.”

“Hardly.” She pointed at the ocean below them with her thumb. “Your venting changed the tides entirely. The sailors will be very confused tomorrow.”

“Ah, damn it.” Elsa closed her eyes, took a deep breath. As she released the air, little by little, the waves calmed. “This place is terrible for me. I can’t wait to get back home.”

“We should get back to sleep. It’ll be a long trip.”

“Wait.” It was too fast – before Maren could react, Elsa had a hand around her waist, yanking her so that their torsos touched. She ran a thumb over Maren’s lips, moved her fingers to unbutton the collar of her shirt, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Can’t let you get away with being so insolent.”

Maren’s heart did a little flip. The hints of vulnerability in Elsa’s face were entirely gone, replaced by a presence so strong and commanding, it was hard for Maren to even consider what to say. Elsa moved her lips down Maren’s throat, and she bit back a whimper. “Got through your ice queen persona, didn’t – ah!”

There was a jolt of pain when Elsa bit into her neck, and Maren suddenly felt very warm despite the wind. “Do not talk back to me,” Elsa whispered in a low tone that made her legs feel wobbly. She pressed her lips to Maren’s again, parted them open with her tongue while running her nails gently over the skin of Maren’s nape.

_Shit, _Maren reached back with her hand, grabbed on the railing to steady herself. She kissed back, gasped for breath. Elsa bit her bottom lip, tugged, sent her heart racing so fast she felt dizzy. “Where did you even learn this,” Maren half-complained when Elsa trailed her fingers over her spine, making Maren arch her back.

“Diplomacy,” she smirked, and her half-lidded stare melted Maren’s insides, “I had to travel to foreign nations. Meet interesting dignitaries. Sometimes assassins.”

“Assassins?!” Maren pulled back to look her in the eyes, but her face, as always, gave no answer. “You made out with your assassins?”

Elsa grinned, but offered no clarification. ”Arendelle has always been suffocating, so I appreciated opportunities to… test my limits. See what I can do. Magically or otherwise.”

“I was right, then,” Maren pressed a light kiss to her lips, “A real heartbreaker.”

“Perhaps. You’ll never know. ” She stroked Maren’s burning cheek, kissed the corner of her mouth. “But your heart, I intend to care for.”

“You’re warm and soft, when you want to be.” She grinned. “Careful about that reputation of yours.”

Elsa snarled, kissed her again, this time much rougher. “You speak a lot of bold words,” she moved to whisper in her ear, “But you’d let me have my way with you.”

“Possibly.”

“Definitely,” Elsa slid her leg between Maren’s, pushed against her, bit into her skin.

“Ah – “ she inhaled, “Yes. Definitely.”

“Good girl.” Elsa pulled back, smiled again, and this time there was genuine joy seeping into her body language, clear as day from the tenderness with which she pressed a kiss to Maren’s forehead. “Let’s get you inside, Honey. Before I end up needing to fix the ocean again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been brought to my attention that this story is a romcom 
> 
> to recover my dignity as an angst/horror writer i made a chapter with the sole intent to hurt everyone
> 
> elsa: yeah she won the argument but then I had her begging please in bed so really, I won the argument
> 
> merry christmas gays I hope y'all have a ton of fun being your family's Gay Cousin (tm), may you all be as graced with tropical alcohol as I am


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for whatever reason Ao3 sorta forgot to tell people that I wrote a chapter 6
> 
> so please check if you missed chapter 6 before reading this chapter so you don't get confused

It was spring, and Honeymaren was in an excellent mood. Winters were never too rough after Elsa started roaming the forest, as if she personally made sure the Northrulda didn’t suffer – and as far as Maren knew, that was true. But there was something about spring, the way the birds chirped and the flowers bloomed and the crickets sang, something that filled her with optimism and elation.

She’d jump from tree branch to tree branch just to feel the rush of adrenaline right before she landed. She’d run until she collapsed from exhaustion, taking delight in the burning of her lungs. She’d splash through the pleasantly cool river water and scare away all the fish much to her brother’s annoyance. She’d peek around animal dens at a respectful distance to see the cubs and the puppies. Maren loved spring, loved the new life that came with it.

It was her favorite season. She felt close to nature, to the forest, to her people. Sometimes, the villagers gathered to bake, and she’d help them, join their voices in song while they turned flour into bread. Sometimes, she’d take the children to the wilds, teach them how to tame and care for the reindeer. And sometimes she’d have an entirely free day, a day where warm rain cut their productivity short and the people would sleep in and have late breakfast.

On those days, Maren liked to sit on a hill where she could see the river, even if she got drenched by the rain. She’d watch the water level rise until it flooded the valley, and if she was lucky, she’d find her dinner in the fish that got stuck and left behind on the banks when the water lowered as abruptly as it had risen.

It was one such day, just past a drizzle, when she was sitting cuddly warm in her reindeer coat and humming a melody, that Elsa approached her. It was unannounced as usual, save for a cold nip on the wind, sometimes a stray, out of season flurry. And then she was there, leaning on her shoulder, wearing a dress that was green grass and all manner of colorful flowers.

“Hey there, snowflake,” Maren smiled, tangled her fingers in Elsa’s ashen blonde hair, rubbed her scalp.

And though her skin was always cold, Elsa’s smile warmed her up as much as the spring sunrays. “Honey,” she dropped her head to lie on Maren’s lap, curled up, and Maren couldn’t help but compare her to a cat once again. “Been a while. I’ve missed you.”

“Lots of work in the village for the spring,” she bent down, planted a kiss on Elsa’s forehead. “There’s baby reindeers. They’re lovely, you should see them.”

“Maybe I’ll arrange a visit.” Elsa closed her eyes. Maren let her fingers drift from the top of Elsa’s head to her cheeks, tinted pink. “You’re taking over, aren’t you?”

“Hm.” Maren ran her thumb over the curve of Elsa’s ear. “Yeah. Yelana has been leaving more and more things under my responsibility. I think she’s getting ready to retire.” She smiled. “Keeps giving me _so many _orders, though. Says the same thing a thousand times too.” Maren raised her head to the sky. “But she also keeps reminding me I’ll make a great chief. It makes for an amusing combination.”

“You will,” Elsa opened her eyes, stared at her. “Make a great chief, I mean. You’re –“

“Mm?”

“Nothing.” Elsa looked away.

Maren stroked her cheek with the back of her hand. “Come now, darling. Tell your prettiest suitor what is on your mind.” She smiled at the end, winked.

Elsa snorted and rolled onto her side so that her face was hidden under Maren’s shirt. “You’re calm, and warm, and brave,” she mumbled, voice muffled by the cloth. “Peaceful and understanding. When I talk to you, it feels like you’re actually listening. And –“

Elsa cut herself off. Maren separated thin strands of her hair and began twisting them into a braid. It wasn’t unusual for Elsa to get hung up on a feeling, and when it happened, Maren used to tell her to take her time. Lately, though, she felt no need to do so. She just sat in silence, let Elsa think, and waited.

“ – when you told me you were meant to take my side on things,” Elsa turned her head, faced Maren. “That you’ll – you’ll stand by me.” She took a deep breath, held it, pursed her lips together. “That… it made me feel safe.”

_Oh,_ Maren felt her gaze soften and a lazy smile twitch on her lips. Elsa’s hair was much too thick for such a small braid, and when Maren let go of the tip, it unmade itself into loose waves. “You’ll always find safety in me,” she resumed her gentle caresses. “I love you.”

She’d said it again a couple times since that night in Arendelle, but it always seemed to surprise Elsa, sometimes even scare her away despite Maren’s protests or how she carefully timed the words to prevent escapes on the back of Nokk. This time, though, it felt different.

Elsa didn’t tense, didn’t recoil. She met Maren’s eyes with the slightest of frowns. “I accept it.”

Maren beamed, traced Elsa’s lips with her index finger. “I’m glad you do.”

They sat in silence again. Maren watched the river, marveled at how from that angle, the water seemed to almost be standing still. Yelana liked to tell her that still waters ran deep, and the words reminded her of Elsa somehow – the imposing quietness of her presence, the turmoil that often hid beneath.

“Maren?”

“Mm?”

“What happens to us when you become chief?” the question was spoken in a monotone, but Maren watched the river, saw the water crash against the shore, and she knew the worry hidden behind the words. “Will you have to… take a husband? Have children?”

“Ha!” she couldn’t help but snort. “A husband? Not likely. Children, though, hm.” Elsa moved, sat back up, and Maren wrapped an arm around her waist. “I don’t know. Is that a thing you’d want?”

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell into a gape, a rare moment of expressiveness that almost made Maren giggle. “I – “ she blinked, fell into silence.

“Take your time,” she felt the need to say, and smiled.

She felt Elsa take a deep breath, felt her ribs expand under her arm. This time, it was Maren who leaned, pressed her cheek against Elsa’s shoulder. Elsa was much more awkward in shedding affection, much more discreet about it, but Maren smiled when she interlaced their fingers.

“I’ve… never thought about it in a good context. Only that I was queen, and I’d have to take a husband eventually, make heirs. And that they might be… like me.”

“Like you,” Maren echoed, and though she knew exactly what Elsa meant, she arched an eyebrow, caught a lock of blonde hair between her fingers. “They might have the same adorable messy curls you have early in the morning, mmh? Or your stunning blue eyes. Or maybe your cute little buck teeth?”

Elsa pulled back, nearly dropping Maren on the ground. She narrowed her eyes. “I do _not_ have buck teeth.”

Maren laughed. When she found Elsa smiling back at her, she felt something warm in her chest. “You’d make lovely children, if that was your wish.”

“You know what I meant.”

She shrugged. “That they might have magic?” she crossed her legs at the ankles, followed the ebb and flow of the river with her eyes. “Do you still think that’s awful?”

“No.” Elsa dropped her gaze, hugged her knees. “But it would still worry me.” Maren touched a tentative hand to her shoulder. She flinched, and Maren pulled it back. “I was afraid,” Elsa said, and her voice broke, “All the time. That others would hurt me. That I’d hurt others. That I’d be –“

Silence. Some things hurt too much to be spoken aloud. Maren nodded. “I understand.”

“I wouldn’t want to inflict that pain upon anyone.” She rested her chin on her knees. There was an icy wind. The river roared. “Touch me.”

Maren tilted her head, reached out, brushed her knuckles on the length of Elsa’s arm –

“Stop.”

She dropped her hand. Asked no questions. She felt something icy touch her skin and didn’t have to turn to see it was snowflakes. She waited.

“I used to be afraid of being touched. Because it was dangerous. At first it was just that – a fear that I’d hurt people. And I could tell myself it was fine, because I’d get my magic under control eventually. But then it turned into something else. A fear I might be repulsive.” She exhaled. “Touch me.”

Maren did, covered Elsa’s hand with her own, caressed the back of her hand with a thumb. Elsa winced. Grit her teeth. “Stop.”

She pulled away. Elsa was still hugging her knees, but now Maren could see her shake. She held back her words, gave Elsa time.

“I got used to it, after we opened up the gates. To being touched, I mean, be it a hug, a kiss on the hand, a handshake. Some days are easier than others. Some people,” she paused, met Maren’s eyes, “are easier than others. Anna. Kristoff, after a while. You. Feels nice, even. But sometimes –“ Her voice broke. “Sometimes I feel like that little kid again. Anxious. Scared. And then it hurts, being touched. But I don’t say it, because if I do, then I might make it real – awkward, repulsive. And I might never get to feel it again.”

The temperature dropped a few more degrees, got cold enough to be bothersome. Maren took out her coat anyway. They were sitting next to each other and she closed the distance between them slowly. When Elsa did not recoil, she threw the coat over her shoulders, careful not to touch her.

Elsa looked at it with wide eyes, ran her fingers over the fluffy interior, warm with Maren’s heat. She pulled it close to her body, shivered. “Fuck.” She clutched the cloth between her fingers. “Come here.”

Maren did, feeling a weird static in the air, and she wasn’t sure whether the roaring in her ears was from the furiously rising waters or just her own blood rushing inside her head. Elsa raised her head, stared at her, expression unreadable. “Hold me.”

Maren hugged her from behind, pressed their arms together, and the cold around them was such that Elsa’s skin was the same temperature as her own. She was no longer sure which one of them was shivering – maybe both. Elsa turned to her, hid her face deep into the crook of her neck, and let out a single strangled sob.

And then, not unlike when the great dam had broken, it turned into an avalanche of tears, uncontrollable, sobs deep enough to shake her whole body. Occasionally she’d tighten her grip on Maren’s shoulder and scream, a raw release of deep, bottled agony, and when she did, Maren watched the river’s waters go almost perfectly still.

Maren cried, too. She wasn’t sure when she started, but by the time the sun went down, her throat ached and her nose was stuffy. She didn’t loosen her grip on Elsa, not even when the muscles in her back complained. The red hues of the sky reflected on the water made it look like fire.

Maren thought Elsa had fallen asleep, with the way she closed her eyes, evened out her breathing and leaned against her limply. But she spoke in a hushed tone, barely loud enough to hear. “Thank you.”

“Would you like me to stay?” she murmured back, made a futile effort to wipe the tears from Elsa’s cheeks. “Spend the night in the woods with you?”

Silence. The air burned when it entered Maren’s lungs.

“No.” Elsa opened her eyes. They were red from crying, and Maren had the sudden urge to kiss her. “Will you take me home with you instead? To your hut. To your bed.”

“Of course.”

Elsa raised her head. “But let’s watch this sunset first.”

Maren smiled, helped her up. They leaned against each other and sat together until the moon peeked over the horizon and the stars shone bright above them.

“Elsa?” She said after a while, when they both had calmed down.

“Mm?”

“May I kiss you?” She asked, and then added, “Only if you’re comfortable. Don’t feel pressured to.”

There was a long moment of silence in which Maren almost thought she was going to refuse. But when she turned, it was with her heartbreaker lopsided smile, the one which was just wide enough that Maren could see she _did_ have small buck teeth.

“Only if you say please.”

_There’s that temper_, she thought, grinning like the fool in love she was. “May I kiss you, please?”

“When you ask so nicely,” Elsa replied, and leaned in.

Maren met her lips under the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "but buttons why do they not discuss the fact that two women can't make a baby?"
> 
> because fucking MAGIC is canon and so not only two women can most definitely make a baby, I am working with the possibility that it is such a widespread thing they don't even feel the need to bring that aspect up
> 
> "bUt bIoLogY"
> 
> fuck you
> 
> this is Ao3 not PubMed
> 
> happy new year gays may 2020 bring us all a ton of gays to fanfic about
> 
> [thanks to [meadows ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamond_dusted/pseuds/diamond_dusted)for the beta!]


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have decided to add boobies  
this is now a story for grown ups, preferably when they aren't working  
children, leave

Maren got up from the bed and walked over to the stone fireplace to tend to the flames. She tossed another log in and heard the wood pop, the heat pleasantly warm against her bare skin. She meant to set up her _goahti_ and spend the night in the forest, near the herd of reindeer, but Elsa had insisted they sleep in her actual house in the village, even offered her a ride on the Nokk.

The experience had been unsettling. Maren never wanted to ride a horse made entirely of water again. She stretched, yawned and tied her hair back in a bun.

“Can’t sleep?”

She turned around. Elsa was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes. Maren smiled and tipped her head in a small nod. Too many years of waking up in the middle of the night to escape wild animals or enemy warriors had made her a light sleeper. “It’s because you snore.”

She expected Elsa to object, but all she got was a knowing smile. At night, topless and bathed in the light of the fireplace, she looked especially magical. Elsa’s eyes drifted to the flames, grew unfocused.

Maren followed her gaze. The fire crackled, and its hues shifted from warm reds and yellows to a light blue. It didn’t seem logical that a fire could look that cold, yet there it was, almost defying nature. Maren’s cabin, like everyone else’s, was modest – wooden walls, a bed, basic furniture. Her walls weren’t bare, but they weren’t the most ornate, either. Scattered over the place, a few trinkets she had collected over the years could be found.

The blue glow that filled the room made the place look ethereal. “Huh,” she ran her fingers over the edge of a wooden chair as if to check it was still solid. “Haunting.” She turned to Elsa. “Beautiful.”

Elsa pulled the blankets over her hips and patted the bed. “Join me.”

Maren yawned and walked back to the bed, bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. She was trying to get into a habit of wearing socks to sleep because Elsa had absurdly cold feet, but she always ended up kicking them off during the night.

The bed creaked when she sat down. Elsa leaned her head on Maren’s shoulder and ran her finger over the skin of Maren’s arm. When she came upon a scar, she stopped. “What happened here?”

“Hmm.” She leaned into Elsa’s neck, pressed a kiss on the cool skin. “Story for a story?”

Elsa arched an eyebrow. “You want to know about the assassin.”

“I’m _dying_ to know about the assassin, come on!”

Elsa laughed. “It’s not that much of a good story. I was on a diplomatic mission to try and mend relations between Arendelle and the Southern Isles. I should have expected something like that might happen.” She shrugged. “Sneaky sons of bitches.”

Hearing Elsa curse never ceased to surprise Maren, but it turned out she was as bad as a sailor once she was intimate with someone. “They sent an assassin after you? Who did it?”

“Mmh.” Elsa grabbed Maren’s shoulder and pushed her down on the mattress. “It’s hard to tell. Might have been Hans, but I doubt he’d have the balls to mess with me or my family again. King has twelve other sons, though, and plenty of nobles.”

Elsa traced Maren’s jawline with her thumb, still sitting. Maren leaned into her touch. “You didn’t have an escort guard?”

“Don’t need one. No point in endangering other people when I can protect myself.” She moved her fingers to Maren’s collarbones, and her nails left faint marks along Maren’s skin. “It wasn’t even a fight. There was a hooded woman in my bedroom when I walked in, but she dropped the knife the moment she saw me.”

“Mmh.” Maren moved her hand to touch the skin over Elsa’s ribs, but Elsa pinned her hand down and pinched her shoulder. Maren let out a small grunt. “How did she end up in your bed?”

“Behave.” Elsa whispered in a commanding tone, and the flames in the fireplace flared, a small shower of sparks coming out. “She’d been sent to murder the person in that room, but no one told her it was, well. Me. The Ice Queen. _That_ was why she didn't have to fight past any guards.”

Elsa’s fingers were cold, trailing a line over her sternum and all the way down her navel. Maren let out a shaky breath. Elsa’s hand made its way back up, cupped her breast, but quickly let go. “Fuck,” Maren whimpered, then closed her eyes, counted to ten. She knew Elsa enjoyed driving her over the edge. She knew the key was to resist it as best as she could. “What happened then?”

Elsa’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “She said even she wasn’t crazy enough to go up against a witch. But then she said I looked _fucking delicious_ and asked if I was down for a bit of fun and then never, ever seeing each other again.”

“And you said yes?”

Elsa pinched her nipple, just hard enough to hurt, and Maren bit back a moan. Elsa leaned in, pressing her torso against Maren’s, until her lips were close enough that Maren could feel Elsa’s warm breath on her ear. “I was terribly bored,” she whispered, then ran her tongue over Maren’s earlobe.

Maren dug her fingers into Elsa’s spine, arched her back when Elsa bit into the soft skin of her neck. _Control yourself, _she repeated over and over like a mantra, and she forced herself to be still, though her heart was racing and her body was shaking. “Was that your first time?”

“No.” Her lips pressed cold kisses over the skin she’d just bit, then moved down her throat, stopping halfway. Maren felt her smile. “I can feel your pulse,” she raked her nails over Maren’s ribs. “I can feel it speeding up for me.”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_, Maren felt her skin burn, felt Elsa’s ribcage move against hers, “Who was your first, then?”

“The Admiral of Galifem’s navy.” Her kisses trailed down to Maren’s collarbone, and she ran her palm along Maren’s thigh. “And then the crown princess of Avalor. Arendelle has _excellent _relationships with both kingdoms.”

Maren tangled her fingers on Elsa’s hair, moaned when Elsa's tongue touched the sensitive skin of her nipple. Elsa bit, sending a jolt of mixed pleasure and pain that traveled down her spine and pooled into warmth in her abdomen. “Did you manage to fix things…” it was hard to speak, “…with the Southern Isles?”

“Hm.” Elsa pulled back, stared at her through half-lidded eyes, ashen-blonde hair cascading down, just long enough to touch Maren’s skin. Her hands went over Maren’s ribs, palmed her breasts. “Not on commercial terms. We have a truce based entirely on their fear of me. I’m fine with that.”

The fire roared, and the blue light made Elsa’s pale skin glow. She moved her left hand to Maren’s throat, closed her fingers around it and squeezed. Maren felt herself losing her breath, saw something dark in Elsa’s eyes as her right hand moved to Maren’s inner thigh.

Elsa let go. Maren inhaled deeply. “Fuck,” she mumbled. Elsa leaned in to kiss her, and Maren parted her lips to let her tongue in. Elsa squeezed again. Released. Maren felt dizzy. Elsa’s lips were still hovering over hers and she could taste the warmth of her breath when she inhaled. “Elsa, _please_ –“

“Mm?” she moved her fingers to stroke Maren’s cheek, grinning. “Now will you tell me of your scar?”

“You’re an unbearable tease.” She propped herself up on her elbow, using her free hand to hold the back of Elsa’s head and pull her into a kiss. Elsa smiled, tugged on Maren's lip with her teeth, then pulled away.

Maren caught her breath before speaking. “Not much to it. I got hit by a sword. It’s been a while.”

Elsa ran her fingertip over the scar, but offered no comment. Maren leaned into her touch, sensed when her needs changed from sexual to another kind of intimacy. She hugged Elsa from behind, rested her chin on Elsa’s shoulder and let the silence extend between them.

Elsa lost her gaze in the fire again. Maren watched the blue flames flicker, sometimes taking shapes which would never occur naturally. It burned without smoke, even when it crackled and spat out white-hot sparks.

“It was an Arendellian, wasn’t it?”

Maren closed her eyes and rubbed her palms over Elsa’s arms. “Yes.”

“Were we the boogeymen to you? Did you tell your children bedtime stories about us?” She leaned back against Maren’s chest. “Did you sing ominous lullabies?”

Maren licked her lips. She was tempted not to reply – she knew her silence would be answer enough – but sometimes, the words needed to be said aloud. War was messy. War hurt people, broke people, turned them into the worst versions of themselves. She planted a gentle kiss on Elsa’s shoulder. “Yes.”

Elsa didn’t ask to which of the questions the answer was for. Maren knew she could infer it was a yes to all. Again she was quiet. Again Maren waited. When she turned without leaving Maren’s grip, it was to touch a hand to her cheek.

“I want to say that I’ll never hurt you,” Elsa whispered, her fingers making gentle pressure on Maren’s cheekbones. “But I can’t promise you that.”

“No one can make that promise.” She moved so that her lips were under Elsa’s fingers. “Yelena sometimes tells me that people are a bit like porcupines. That when they get close enough to each other, a pinprick or two is bound to happen. And it does happen.” She ran her thumb over the curve of Elsa’s ear. “What really matters is what you do when it does.”

Elsa met her eyes, piercing, for much longer than it was polite, until Maren had the urge to squirm, and then until that urge morphed in the shape of unexpected comfort. Then, when her breathing had slowed down, when her skin and Elsa’s had been in contact for long enough to have reached the same temperature, only then did Elsa speak again.

“I love you.” She bumped her forehead against Maren’s shoulder, hiding her face. “Do you accept it?”

Maren smiled and pressed her nose into Elsa’s hair. She had the scent of the forest, a mixture of pine trees, dew and flowers in bloom, together with that oddly specific smell the earth had right after it started to rain.

Her insides felt warm. It felt as if her heart just might burst with the pressure of her love. “I do.”

Elsa didn’t lift her head to face her. Maren let her take her time. She toyed with Elsa’s hair, kissed her hairline and the curve of her neck and the moles on her shoulder. “I love you,” she whispered over and over, tracing the shape of Elsa’s smile with her thumb, then moved it to wipe away the small tears that rolled down her cheek.

She watched the fire return to warmer colors, casting a reddish glow over the room. Elsa looked at her again, smiled without words, kissed her in a way that was soft and gentle and made her heart ache and her soul yearn for more. Maren could taste the salt of tears upon her lips.

And then, without any warning, Elsa pushed Maren down with her weight, knocking her bacok onto the mattress. “You’re getting better at this,” she wiped her cheeks on the skin of her shoulder and smiled, sitting on Maren’s lap. “We managed to have one entire conversation before I got you begging. Very clever.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“And to think you were doing so well,” Elsa held her face and kissed her again, but the bites were back, and she grabbed Maren’s wrists, held them above her head. “Now, where were we?”

Maren opened her mouth to say something snarky, like ‘_in my cabin’, _but Elsa captured her lips again and this time, she let all her thoughts drift out of her grasp.

Elsa gave the fireplace one last look, and the flames swirled like a small tornado. She grinned and flicked her wrist.

The fire went out, and they were enveloped by darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it a bird  
is it an airplane  
no  
it's the rating of this fic shooting up to M
> 
> thanks [meadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamond_dusted/pseuds/diamond_dusted) for beta checking my softporn written at 2AM under the effects of substances and noticing the deep philosphical dilemmas hidden between it


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember children: drugs are bad

Maren stood by the river, a safe distance from the margin, and dropped her leather satchel on the ground near a tree. She’d brought the wood for the fire and even the flint to start it, though she was expecting Elsa to show up and make the latter unnecessary.

Sure enough, by the time she was done digging a firepit and surrounding it with stones, Elsa was already there, sitting on a high tree branch and watching her work. For someone who’d go missing for weeks at a time, Elsa was surprisingly reliable with her appointments.

Maren greeted her with a nod and a smile. “Hey, Snowflake.”

“Hi Honey.” She hopped down to the ground with the grace of a cat. “Something I can help you with?”

“Oh, a lot. Tonight will be busy for you. Get that fire going, won’t you?”

Elsa tilted her head, but asked no further questions. She snapped her fingers and there was a spark that soon turned into a full-blown fire. Maren took some dried herbs from her pack and sprinkled them over the flames. When they burned into gray smoke, the clearing was filled with a strange, fragant aroma that was sweet and intoxicating. 

Maren carefully organized several bottles of water. Elsa sat by the fire, observing her, patiently waiting for an explanation.

“Thank you for coming,” she brushed the dirt off her clothes and walked back to her pack. “I thought you’d have… spirit things to do on the summer solstice. I’m happy you could show up.”

Elsa shrugged. “Solstices and equinoxes are good days for magic, but the spirits aren’t really holding me to a schedule. They’ll celebrate the date without me just fine.”

“Still.” Maren offered her a smile. “Thank you for prioritizing me.” She tipped her head, then sat down next to Elsa. “I’m doing a cleansing journey. It’s… something intimate. I usually do it with Ryder or Yelana, but…” She reached out, touched Elsa’s hand. Elsa allowed the contact, and Maren interlaced their fingers. “I’ve been meaning to share it with you for a while.”

Elsa frowned, then nodded. “Most things magic are natural and intuitive to me, but I know very little about the formalities of rituals. What would you have me do?”

Maren emptied the contents of her pack on the floor – a single crystal glass, a small drum made of stretched reindeer leather and wooden beaters, their tips covered by fur. “Your first task is to keep me alive for the first thirty minutes or so.”

Elsa arched her eyebrows. “Sounds... promising.”

“I mean it. There’ll be a lot of vomiting after I take the mushrooms. Just help me while I throw up. Helping me clean up after is appreciated but optional.” She pulled a small flask from the pockets of her coat, several dried red caps inside.

Elsa hesitated. “Is this safe?” she took the flask from Maren’s hands, shook it, inspected its contents curiously. “Because it doesn’t sound safe.”

“That’s what you’re here for, Snowflake. To ensure my safety through the whole thing.”

“This is giving me anxiety.”

Maren laughed. “Just keep me hydrated and prevent me from falling into the river. I’ll be fine. Here, let me show you the instruments.”

Maren offered her the crystal glass and one of the beaters first. Elsa ran her fingers over the smooth surface. “What do I do with these?”

“You hit the wooden part on the glass,” Maren explained, and Elsa experimented with it. A clear, high pitched note rung in the air. “Slowly at first, and then faster. That’s my sign – it’s the sound that will release my soul into the twilight, and also the one which will pull me back. Strike it once, count to five, strike it again. Do it three times.”

Elsa attempted to follow her instructions, but the pace wasn’t ideal. “Like so?”

“Again, but slower.”

It took Elsa only three attempts to get it right. She had an excellent sense of rhythm. “And then I speed up?”

“Not yet. You do the same, but strike it twice instead of once. Three times as well. And then you beat it fast and rhythmically, until I’m ready for the drums.”

“How will I know when?” Elsa struck the glass, learned the melody.

“I’ll tell you.” Maren let her toy around with the instruments some more so that she could grow familiar with them. “I’ll talk to you all throughout, and you’ll guide my journey. That’s why it is so intimate.”

Elsa narrowed her eyes. “I’ve never done any such thing. Not sure if I’ll know how.”

“You will.” Maren handed her the drum. “Beat it, steady, like a heartbeat. This will be my pace. You may slow it or speed it up if you judge it appropriate.”

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Elsa protested as she tested the drum. “I am honored you trust me with this, but I have no idea, and I mean absolutely no idea –“

“Relax. It’s intuitive. You’ll know what to do.” Maren watched the beaters strike the leather. “Your left hand is drumming faster than your right. You’re nervous.”

“That’s because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Drumming. It’s not hard.” Elsa made an indignant sound, but synchronized her beating. Maren nodded. “That’s good enough.”

“Only good enough?”

“I’ve seen you with the piano. You can do better.” She winked, and Elsa stuck out her tongue. “I think we’re good to go. Ring the glass again once the journey is done so I can return. Are you ready?”

“I don’t think I've had nearly enough instruction but carry on.”

Maren snorted, then leaned in. “There’s no real secret, you’ll do great. Now kiss me before I start vomiting.”

“Disgusting,” Elsa said, but smiled and pressed their foreheads together. She stroked Maren’s cheek, then pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. Maren felt a pang on her chest. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“It’ll go so smoothly you’ll want to try it yourself.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Maren opened the vial, spilled a couple small caps into her hand and chewed them. They were bitter and dry, and as they crunched between her teeth, she had the urge to spit them out. She forced herself to swallow and washed the taste away with a gulp of water.

“Did you know,” Maren sat down and leaned her back against a tree. “That they call those mushrooms fly traps, because of how they kill the flies they attract to land on them?”

“And you looked at a mushroom surrounded by dead flies and thought it was a good idea to eat it?”

Maren laughed and patted her lap. Elsa laid down on it, and Maren tangled her fingers on Elsa’s blonde locks. “We’ve been doing this for hundreds of years, love. And as the fifth spirit, you _should_ grow familiar with our rituals.”

Elsa scowled. “Surely I would learn better when not worried about your wellbeing.”

“I understand your concern, but this is safe and you’re overthinking.”

“I’m not – wait a second,” she said, and when her eyes met Maren’s, she seemed honestly distraught. “What if I, I don’t know, strike the glass too hard and this thing breaks? How do I recall your soul then, will you be stuck in some odd trance forever?”

“Ha!” Maren shook her head. “No, I’ll just wake up confused and miserable.”

“Oh. Okay. Wait, what if –“

“Overthinking.” Maren twirled Elsa’s hair, and Elsa pouted.

“I’m _preparing_,” Elsa shot back and crossed her arms. “You can’t expect me to be your – your hallucinogen nanny – no, sorry, that’s disrespectful.”

“You’re adorable.” Maren felt a sharp pang in her stomach and clutched at it. “Ack.”

Elsa’s eyes widened and she sat up. “Are you okay?” She hesitated and Maren could all but see the gears turning inside her head when she reached over and grabbed the water flask. “Fucking hell, Honeymaren, the things you do. Here, drink –“

“Nope. Not now. Need to puke. Help me up.”

They barely made it to the nearby bushes. Maren bent over and retched, the contents of her stomach coming back while Elsa pressed a cool hand to her forehead and rubbed her back. Elsa offered her a flask of water and she took it, downing all of it with three long gulps.

“Thank yo-“ the water hit her stomach and bounced straight back, and Maren threw up again, tasting bile this time. She let out a multitude of expletives in Northruldan and coughed.

“You haven’t taught me those words yet,” Despite the sly half-smile, Maren could see genuine worry on Elsa’s expression. She spun her finger, and a small whirlwind of cool air rose from Maren’s feet. It was refreshing. “You look awful.”

“Uh-huh. You look –“ Maren tried to turn around, but felt dizzy. She stumbled, and Elsa grabbed her by the shoulder. “Your head looks minuscule on top of normal-sized shoulders.”

“I – thank you?” Elsa blinked. “This would be hilarious if I wasn’t so damn worried. Maybe I should just laugh as you suffer the predictable consequences of ingesting poison.”

“Ha ha.” She took a shaky breath. Her limbs felt heavy. “Help me clean –“ she heaved.

Elsa stared at her, then at the row of water canteens. “Can you stand while I fetch you more water?”

“Yes.” Elsa let go. Maren tripped. Her stomach hurt. “Maybe not.”

Elsa made a disgruntled sound of displeasure. “I got this.” She slapped her left foot on the ground, and a spike of ice shot from it, traveling to the water flasks and sending them up in the air. The spikes shifted into a smooth surface, and the canteens landed on it and slid towards them. Elsa nodded, seeming particularly proud of the stunt, then handed Maren one of the canteens. “Drink.”

Maren attempted to uncork it, but failed. Elsa took it from her hand and pressed it to her lips. She swirled the water around in her mouth and spat again to clean it from the bitter taste, then took another long sip. She felt herself overheating even though her skin was sticky with cold sweat. “Spill it over my head.”

Elsa complied, and the water flowed over her scalp and down her nape, tingling. Maren let some of it gather in her hand, closed her eyes and splashed her face with it. When she opened her eyes again, the world exploded into colors, rainbow fractals dancing in her vision. “Woah,” Maren took a step backwards. Elsa held her in place. “Sit me help.”

“The things I do for love,” Elsa mumbled, dragging her back to the campfire, and Maren giggled. The grass under her boots had turned entirely purple. When she looked at the pebbles on the way, they grew disturbing faces that smiled at her with bare gums.

Elsa sat her down, balancing her back against a tree. Maren could see her, but only sometimes. “You’re glowing,” she mumbled. “The rocks don’t have teeth.”

_“Faen i helvete,”_ Elsa hissed, and Maren was sure it was something unflattening, but her ability to understand Arendellian was quickly degrading. “_Jævla fitte_ – drink the fucking water – _faen ta deg,_ Honeymaren.”

She brought the leather to her lips, forgot how to swallow and spat the water out. The liquid that came out of her lips was a glowing, vivid green.

“Disgusting,” Elsa grumbled, then emptied the flask on top of Maren’s head.

Maren watched the water flow between her fingers, her skin flushed. She shook her head and sent droplets flying from her soaked hair. When they hit the ground, bizarre triangular flowers sprouted from them. “I think I’m ready.”

“Your pupils are the size of saucers.”

“Saucers that can fly come from beyond the stars,” She shivered and the edges of her vision darkened. Elsa offered her more water. She drank. “Drum for me.”

Elsa sighed and hesitated. She let go of Maren’s shoulders. When Maren didn’t fall down, she moved to grab the instruments. Maren followed Elsa with her eyes, marveling at the trail of shadow-Elsas that she left behind as she moved.

Elsa sat in front of her, frowned, and struck the glass crystal with a beater.

_Ding._

Maren’s mind immediately went into focus, and she could feel the world narrow, things blurring as that single note sucked her in.

_Ding._

She could see sounds. She could see the rough edges of the crackling fires and the ululating waves of the roaring river.

_Ding._

She could see that high-pitched sound, an icy blue crystal, taking over her vision entirely.

_Ding-ding._

Maren inhaled. The crystal grew larger, until it overcame the colors and shapes of other sounds.

_Ding-ding._

She was acutely aware of how her heart beat inside her, slower than usual. She could feel the pulse travel up her throat.

_Ding-ding. _

She closed her eyes. There was no darkness, but rather colors and shapes dancing into a spiral of pure chaos around that single diamond of blue.

_Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding –_

The crystal exploded into thousands of shards that reflected a light of unknown source, until all she could see were colors.

And then, abruptly, she was somewhere else. She felt it before she saw it – the cold water washing over her body, the smooth surface under her skin. She sat under a waterfall that roared around her and fell into a river. She couldn’t see much further, but something deep inside her told her that the margins were surrounded by densely packed woods.

Maren took a deep breath. “I’m here.”

Elsa began drumming. The sound reverberated inside her. Maren let the water wash over her. She wasn’t naked, but she wasn’t clothed either. Rather, she felt as if she was wearing her skin as one would wear a coat.

“Where are you?” Elsa’s voice broke through, carried by the sound of the drums.

“There’s a waterfall,” She looked around, looking for what to describe. “The water here flows backwards. Rising rather than falling. This is the beginning.” She stood. Whether she stood physically or not, she could not tell. “To ascend, each time you must first descend.”

“What are you looking for?”

The water lapped against Maren’s feet. “The cold gnawing of fear in my heart every morning. I want to meet it. See it for what it is. Learn how to face it.”

Elsa’s drumming was steady, but as she walked to the edge of the stone where she stood, she saw the waters below her were still.

“Dive,” Elsa commanded, and Maren let her body go. She splashed into freezing depths that went much further than they had a right to, and she pointed her head downwards and swam.

And swam.

And swam –

“I can’t go any further.” She took a deep breath. Cold liquid filled her lungs. She exhaled. “I am surrounded by waters too wide. Too dark. Too deep. And I can’t go any further. I am afraid.”

Elsa slowed down her pace, until it was in perfect synch with Maren’s heartbeat. “Are you lost?”

“No.” Maren relaxed her muscles and floated in place. “Up is up and down is down. I know where I am. I know where I want to be.” Her body spun. She could see the light above and the depths below. “I am afraid.”

_Tum-tum. Tum-tum. _“Do you fear the things which lurk in the darkness?”

“No.” She caught glimpses of hulking shapes in the distance, too great for comprehension, too strange to look at for long. “They sing songs of wistfulness, melancholy, pride and desire. They will bring me no harm, for one day I shall join them. I am afraid…”

“What are you afraid of, Maren?”

“That the waters are great, and I am small. That they shall flow and carry me away. I lead my people in a time of great change, and I am afraid that I shall fail them.”

“That you’ll make the wrong decisions?”

“That I’ll make the safe decisions.” She stared at her hands, opened and closed her fingers. They were wrinkled by the water. “That I won’t live up to be my best self. Waste my potential to be extraordinary. Waste the chance to lead us into a future that is brighter.” She inhaled long and deep, felt the burning inside her, down her lungs, into the marrow of her bones. “That the waters will swallow me whole, and I’ll be insignificant. Dragged away by the tide.”

“Then swim.”

_Tum-tum-tum-tum-tum-tum._

She did. The drum-beats sped up, and her struggle grew more intense with them. Maren moved her arms, kicked her legs, struggled. She dived down further and further into the darkness, until she couldn’t see her own fingers, until her body ached from the exertion and her muscles cramped –

Elsa slowed the rhythm. Maren surfaced from pitch black waters into blurry airs that tasted vaguely of cinnamon. “I am here.”

“Where?”

“At the shores of the world below.” She stepped out of the water, stumbled, started walking. The grass crunched beneath her toes. When she looked down at them, she saw colors leak like liquid from where her feet touched the ground. “He’s here.”

“Who?”

“Honey-hand. Rough fur. The Great Bear who guides my path awaits my question.”

_Tum-tum. Tum-tum. “_Ask him, then.”

Maren rose her eyes. The bear’s eyes were not unkind, though his form hulked over her. He stared at her and opened his arms in invitation. Maren stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his soft fur. There was a warmth that spread over her then, a sense of peace at the core of her being.

She asked her question. The bear opened his mouth and roared. Maren buried her face on his fur. “He tells me: wield your ambition like a flame, bright enough to light your path, but not too great, lest it burn you and those you love.” Maren opened her eyes. “Cast me into the fire.”

Elsa stopped drumming. There was a roar from the bonfire, sparks high enough to touch the stars. The clearing was engulfed by violet flames. Maren stared deep into Elsa’s eyes, and she knew blue flames burned the hottest.

“Cast me into the fire, and in fire I shall find –“ Maren began, and Elsa reacted to the words with a shiver.

“Innocence.” Elsa's voice was rich, deep, strange. 

“Bring light to the shadows cast by misconceptions and prejudice, so that I may see the world through the gaze of a child once again,” Maren extended her hand, brushed her fingers against Elsa’s cheek. Her skin was burning. “And in fire I shall find –“

“Faith,” Elsa whispered, her eyes growing unfocused.

“In myself, so that I may look at the mists of the unknown without fear. In those around me, so that I may step into the unknown and know I can reach out when I fall.” Her fingers trembled. Her breathing was slow, deep. Her vision was glazed by a strange prismatic shine. “And in fire I shall find –“

“Strength.” The blue flames around them grew higher and higher, consumed the world so that they were the only two beings left.

“So that I may withstand as the fires scorch my skin, flesh and bone, until there is nothing but ashes. And thus I may be born anew.” Maren felt the fire lick at her. It didn’t hurt. She closed her eyes.

“In innocence you are born,” Elsa whispered. “In faith you grow. In strength, you are purified.”

“In innocence I am born,” Maren repeated. “In faith I grow. In strength I am purified. And so I am healed. And so I am whole.” She took a deep breath. “Bring me home.”

_Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-_

She felt her body yanked backwards, dragged back from the shore to the cold black waters.

_Ding-ding, ding-ding, ding-ding_

Back through the surface, rising through the air, until her feet touched the stone she’d leapt from.

_Ding. _

The waterfall crashed upon her shoulders. The water flowed in the right direction this time.

_Ding._

She lifted her eyes to a sky filled with stars.

_Ding._

Maren pulled her head back and gasped for air. She took quick, shalow breaths, her head spinning. Sweat ran down her face, dripped from her chin. The saliva in her mouth was thick, her tongue dry, and she took a sip of water.

The world, the real world, settled into place around her. She saw the clearing, the bonfire still smoking with incense, the roaring river.

She saw Elsa in front of her, eyes wide, still holding the crystal. The world was in the right place, but the colors weren’t quite right yet, and Elsa was still glowing. Or maybe she really _did_ glow. Maren wasn’t sure.

“Thank you,” Elsa whispered, touched cold hands to Maren’s cheeks. “That was – it was indescribable.”

Maren smiled. She was still dizzy, and there was a ringing in her ear which she knew would take a while to vanish. “There’s one more thing,” she began unbuttoning her shirt. “A dunk in the river to renew my energy. Wash away the impurities in my soul.”

“And the vomit,” Elsa chirped, and Maren laughed.

“And the vomit,” She pulled her shirt off, then stumbled and leaned against a tree for support. Kicking off her shoes was an even bigger challenge, one which she suspected Elsa enjoyed watching. “Your final task is to make sure I don’t drown.”

“You’re lucky I control the elements, then.”

“I’m lucky I have you,” Maren smiled.

And Elsa, unusual as that was, smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since i bumped the rating up to M i decided i might as well make people high
> 
> "wow buttons looks like you know a lot about drugs"  
i'd hope so, i'm a doctor 
> 
> "that chapter kinda makes me want to take mushrooms for the spiritual experience"  
you are very impressionable. you are also not a sami shaman. guarantee you'll have 100% of the puking and none of the spiritual experience 
> 
> "how can you be so sure?"  
saturday night shift in the ER
> 
> as always, special thanks to [meadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamond_dusted/pseuds/diamond_dusted) for enduring both my rambles and my grammatical mistakes because I have never once in my life chosen the right preposition for any given sentence
> 
> english is a cool language but nothing can replace the sheer emotional expressiveness of the word "puta"
> 
> [did you know the sami shamans had mushrooms to get high for rituals, and then they peed on the snow and the reindeer followed them around to eat it and get high
> 
> and then the hunters killed the drugged reindeers which were slow and stupid and made their meat into a feast 
> 
> and people ate the meat and got high too
> 
> now you know]


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things about to get a dark turn

It was Maren’s very first act as chief, her first real diplomatic mission since her position as the Northrulda’s new leader had been made official, and she couldn’t quite decide whether the fact that she was sitting there negotiating with a child made her feel better or worse.

Little Agnarr’s eyes scanned the lenght of parchment, his tiny hands holding the paper in place. His finger tracked the words one by one, and when he got stuck on a particularly difficult one, he’d furrow his brows in a way that reminded her of Elsa. “Mama,” he said, and turned back slightly. “Mama, I don’t know this word. What’s a tax ex- exa- exe –“

“Ex-emp-tion,” Anna offered, running her fingers over his ginger curls. Even sitting on her lap, he was barely able to reach the table. “A tax exemption means someone no longer has to pay their taxes.”

“Oh.” He frowned, thinking, then raised his eyes to Maren. “But wait. This contract is about something else. Are you being sneaky with me?”

Maren had to fight the urge to smile. But Agnarr had his back to Anna, and so Anna didn’t stop herself from grinning. Maren crossed her arms and nodded. “You got me, Agnarr. I _was_ being sneaky with the treaty.”

His eyes widened and his mouth fell to a gape. He wore the single most betrayed, scandalized expression she had seen in her whole life. “Auntie Maren!”

“Agnarr,” Anna had put her serious face back on, “What did I teach you? Everyone is always sneaky with paperwork, and that’s why…” She trailed off, letting him complete the sentence.

“That’s why you can’t sign anything without reading it,” He recited, nodding, then hesitated. “Mama, what do I do if I can’t sign the documents because they are bad?”

“You tell them you need to review the terms, and then you don’t sign it.”

He nodded. The movement made his curls fall over his endearing chocolate eyes, and Anna tucked them back behind his ears. “Auntie Maren, I need to review the terms of the treaty and I’m not going to sign it.”

_He looks like a little angel, _Maren thought, something tightening in her chest. This time, she allowed herself to smile. “All right, Prince Agnarr.”

Agnarr pouted. “It sounds weird when you call me that, but mama said everyone should use my title when we’re on offic – offec –“

“Official royal duties,” Anna supplied, then bent down and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “You did a great job, sweetie, thank you for helping me.”

He grinned with the praise, his cheeks turning pink, then nodded. “I like helping.”

“You are a wonderful son,” Anna picked him up from her lap and put him on the floor, straightening his clothes. “Now why don’t you go play with your sister and let mama and auntie Maren talk about adult lady things?”

“Okay,” Agnarr tugged Anna’s sleeve, and she leaned down to let him kiss her cheek. “Mama, will you read me the book of spooky stories before bedtime again?”

“Of course, darling,” Anna ruffled his hair. He was too short to open the door, and Anna had to stand to let him out. Maren watched him run down the castle corridor under his mother’s watchful eyes, until Anna was satisfied, closed the door and sat back down. “Thank you for indulging me with this.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Maren reached inside her satchel and pulled the real treaty papers, then laid them on the table. “Although I feel like I’ve committed the worst type of treason here. I am now personally responsible for all the trust issues that kid will grow to have.”

Anna snorted. “Nonsense. When he’s older, he’ll understand that we conspired to teach him a valuable lesson.” Anna took the documents, flipped to the last page without bothering to read it and signed.

Maren arched her eyebrows. Granted, it was merely a renewal of their existing contract, but the irony of Anna’s attitude was not lost on her. “Do what I say, not what I do?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “I’ve been up and working for sixteen hours, you’re thankfully my last appointment of the day and tomorrow is the weekend.” She handed Maren the papers. “Double-cross me and I will fucking end you.”

Maren laughed as she put the documents away. She stretched, sliding lower in the chair and settling into a more comfortable position. It had been a long day, and she longed for a moment of relaxation. As if reading her mind, Anna stood again, this time to fetch a bottle of wine conveniently hidden behind a cabinet.

“Secret alcohol stash?”

“Blessed be,” Anna uncorked it and drunk straight from the bottle, then wiped her mouth with her sleeve and handed it to Maren. “My goal from now until the night ends is to break the most amount of decorum I can reasonably get away with.”

“Ha!” Maren crowed, then took a sip. The wine was dry and tasted vaguely of wood. Anna’s presence was always particularly energizing. “What would the children think?”

“Nothing, because their dad will keep them company until bedtime. Besides, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” She shook her head and snatched the bottle back. “We keep meeting, of course, but we haven’t really had the time to catch up. I feel like an awful sister-in-law.”

And maybe it was the alcohol on a mostly empty stomach or the exhaustion from the journey, or maybe it was the fact that Maren was just expressive, but she pulled a face at Anna’s words, and by the time she'd caught herself, Anna had already noticed.

“Oh, here we go.” Anna set the bottle on the table. “What is it? What’s wrong? Was it something I did?”

“No, it’s…” Maren hesitated, took another swig, then returned the bottle. She slumped into her chair and stared at the ceiling. “Is that what we are? Sisters-in-law?”

Anna slammed her fist on the table with such strength that the bottle shook and Maren nearly jumped out of her skin. “Elsa’s at it again.”

It wasn’t a question, and so Maren didn’t answer. Instead, she took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I just…” she trailed off. “I see you with your family. Your little boy and your little girl and however many more kids you’ll end up having. I’ve always sort of wanted that domestic life, but…” Maren shrugged. “It’s… complicated.”

Anna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “More than you can imagine.”

“I don’t want Elsa to be unhappy,” Maren leaned forward. Anna offered her a drink and she took it, and the words spilled almost against her will. “I don’t want to make her feel trapped. She’s… a free, wild soul, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s beautiful. Untamed.” Maren rubbed her face. “And I love her, I do, with all my heart, but the prospect that we might want different things in life scares me. Cause love is important, but it isn’t… it isn’t always enough.”

“Love is merely the foundation to build upon,” Anna said, then let out an indistinguishable sound of agony before snapping her head up and staring at Maren with an eerily familiar laser-focus. “How many reindeer would it take for you to marry her? Name your dowry. I will personally arrange it.”

Maren snorted. Anna gave her a sympathetic smile, and Maren sighed again. “I don’t even really mind marriage. Marriage is not the point. I don’t care about being wed. I just want to… build things together.”

“Have you told her that?”

“I don’t know how to do it without scaring her away,” Maren mumbled, then felt guilty. “I’m sorry. I keep using you as my… bridge to Elsa. It’s not fair.”

“It’s fine. Consider it compensation for playing evil diplomat to Agnarr. It’s not a chore, really, I love my sister,” Anna paused, smirked. “And you’re acceptable, I suppose. Approved princess consort.”

“Excuse me -?” Maren replied sharply, and Anna laughed. Maren found herself joining in. She felt a bit of the tension in the room dissipate. Anna was easy to talk to, and she always caught herself opening up more than intended. “Elsa can be hard to understand, sometimes.”

“Has Elsa ever told you about…” Anna gestured vaguely. “What happened to us?”

“Bits and pieces. I’ve stitched the whole story together at this point, but it’s not a topic she likes to touch.”

“That figures.” Anna swirled the bottle, stared at the liquid inside. “Every story has a lot of sides, but it grows twisted as people tell it. Perhaps hearing from me would help you understand.”

“If you’re comfortable sharing.”

Anna hesitated, her eyes growing unfocused. She put the bottle on the table. For a long while, there was silence – the reflective quiet Maren recognized from all her time with Elsa. When Anna spoke again, her tone was somber, unfitting for her bubbly personality.

“Elsa hurt me with her magic, when we were children. It was an accident. We were playing, she misfired, kid stuff.” Anna’s fingers drifted to a white strand in her hair. “And I got sick from it, but the trolls fixed me. My parents, though, they panicked. They had my memory of Elsa’s magic erased –"

“What the fuck,” Maren mumbled, then blamed the alcohol for the breach in etiquette. Anna didn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah. Got into my head, just like that.” Anna broke eye contact. “And then they locked up the gates and sent all the servants away, and kept Elsa in a room like some – some caged animal. She wasn’t allowed to talk to me, but they didn’t tell _me_ that either, so I just grew up knocking on her door, being turned down and thinking she hated me.”

“Why didn’t they tell you?”

“Because –“Anna shook her head. “I’ll get to it. When my parents died, I –“ she inhaled sharply. “I was sad, but I also felt… relief. I thought things would change with Elsa. They didn’t. That’s why I was so easily led on by Hans. I was so desperate to get out of this place, I just… I would take anything.” Anna took a long draught this time. Her body language was the tensest Maren had ever seen from her. “I would have done anything, even left my sister behind. I regret it.”

“You reached out,” Maren offered. “There wasn’t much else you could have done.”

“Not getting engaged to a man I’d just met sounds like a better alternative.” Maren scoffed and took the offered bottle from her hands. Anna slouched on the chair. “It might have been for the best, though. I saw her magic, I chased her, and then she hit me again – cursed me with a frozen heart.”

Anna grit her teeth and touched her chest. Maren gave her time and took a sip from the wine. 

“True love,” Anna began after a while. Paused. Took a deep breath. “Fucking true love was the cure for a frozen heart. It was Elsa herself who saved me. Because even after all that, she loved me. And I –“

Anna was tearing up, and Maren could see her struggling with the words. “Take your time.”

“It’s fine,” she wiped the corners of her eyes with her sleeve. “My parents weren’t happy in their marriage, Maren. It’s easy to see that, now that I’m married myself. I suppose father felt… indebted, I don’t know. And mother was meek. Passive. Almost as if the light inside of her had long faded.” Anna put the bottle on the table and drummed her fingers against the glass. “True love was the cure for a frozen heart, yet they chose to take everything from us, and I... It makes me wonder… you know.”

“Whether they actually loved you,” Maren concluded. “Whether they were insecure about it. Whether they were too scared to find out.”

“When I hold my kids in my arms, I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them. But they are the fruits of my love. Perhaps our parents resented us.” Anna shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I – when we got back.” Her voice broke. “I assumed. I thought Elsa and I - that we’d shared the same shitty upbringing. But she –“Anna rested her elbows on her knees and hid her face between her palms.

“She shielded you from them,” There was a lump on Maren’s throat. “Didn’t she?”

“I thought I had it bad. I didn’t. It wasn’t until she told me – _fuck_.”

Maren stood. She walked over to Anna and pulled her into an awkward hug. Anna pressed her face against Maren’s stomach, still sitting. “Elsa isn’t just confident,” Anna cleared her throat. “She’s resolute. She’s the type of unshakable person who doesn’t feel insecure even when she realizes she's made mistakes. To make someone like that hate herself, you’d – you’d have to break her. And Elsa doesn't break easily.”

“I’m sorry,” Maren felt her own eyes watering.

Anna broke the hug, leaned back against her chair and sighed. “She didn’t tell me that we weren’t allowed to be around each other because she knew it would change the way I saw our parents. And they were the only people I had contact, let alone a relationship with. She chose the burden of hurting me every day so that I wouldn’t have to question them. To protect me from –" Anna exhaled, but didn’t finish.

“How bad was it?”

“Bad. It got worse as she grew older. Mother’s indifference. Father… went from concerned to exasperated. Her teenage years must have been a nightmare.”

“Physical violence?”

“I – I want to say no, but the truth is I don’t know.” Anna shook her head. “Nothing severe, I don’t think, her magic wouldn’t allow that. But there were broken things, I saw them around sometimes. I don’t know who broke them. Never made the connection.”

“She never talks about it, does she?” Maren sat back down.

“Once,” Anna finished the wine. “Only once. Only vaguely. We had an argument, I – she told me I’d see her differently if I knew what she’d been through. I asked her to tell me.” She put the empty bottle between her feet and looked down. “And she told me she wanted to run away, but couldn’t bear the thought of leaving me to take her place. I’m telling you this so that you know,” Anna made eye contact. “She might want the same things as you do. It’s hard to tell with Elsa. But…”

“But she has a lot to unpack,” Maren sighed.

Anna acquiesced, her gaze lost through the window. “You’re good for her, Maren. That’s why I’m sitting here, doing my sister’s emotional labor again. I love her, but I know I can’t always look after her. And I know you do that when I can’t.”

“She looks after herself just fine,” Maren said even though she knew exactly what Anna had meant.

“She does, that tough motherfucker.” Anna smiled, though she still looked downcast. “So much she that thinks she’s self-sufficient. She’s not. Queen or not, I can’t tell you what to do. All I can ask is that you give my sister a chance.”

“I want to,” She looked at the wine bottle wistfully. “I just don’t know how.”

Anna was silent a long time. “Her castle. The first real magic she ever did in years, in the mountains. It… was beautiful.”

“Was?”

“It’s not always the same.” Anna tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain – almost as if it were alive. I don’t… it’s a strange place. Unsettling to even look at, let alone walk into.”

“Right. And I should do just that? Walk into it?”

“She’ll be there,” Anna licked her lips absently. “She’s always there – sometimes, it feels like she never left the place. You go there, you knock. I don’t know if she’ll let you in. If she does, that’s… it means a lot. You might be able to work things out.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Maren asked with a twinge of anxiety.

Anna stared off into the distance. “Then,” she paused, made eye contact, smiled. “You ask her if she wants to build a snowman.”

Maren frowned, but didn’t query further. She rubbed her face with her palms. Her muscles ached, and she desperately wanted a shower. “Anna.” She paused. She was drunk and on a first-name basis with the queen of Arendelle. Her first diplomatic endeavor as Chief was going just peachy. “Why did you name your son after your father?”

Anna narrowed her eyes – not icy blue like Elsa’s, but a darker shade, one that made Maren think of deep, angry tides in the ocean. “Because,” her tone was measured, contained. “I want him to be the Agnarr who history remembers. And I know he will be better.” She smiled, humorless. “Won’t you ask why I named my daughter Joan?”

“Why did you?”

“Joan was my best friend in childhood.” Anna stood. “She’s hanging on the ball room wall. We had the longest chats, though she wasn’t very talkative, as you might expect from a static oil on canvas painting.”

Anna walked to her, and Maren rose from her seat. Anna placed her hands on Maren’s shoulders and squeezed. “And, Maren? Be. Careful.”

“I –“

“No, listen. I know my sister. She means well, but she’s prone to… rage. She’s hurt, deep down, but she’s also angry. And that anger is dangerous. _Be careful, please.”_ Anna pulled her into a hug. “Though at this point I think you may know how to handle her better than I do. Surely better than I did.”

Maren hugged her back. Anna was very hands-on with her affection. “Thank you,” she pulled back, took a deep breath. “Is it odd to say I love you? It might be a breach in protocol, but I do. You feel –“_like family, _Maren thought, but after the talk they just had, it felt strange to say it.

“Like what family is meant to be?” Anna smiled, as if reading her thoughts. “Maybe it is. I don’t know. Fuck protocol. Gods know I’ll never turn down any offering of sincere warmth and caring. I love you too, Maren. Even if things don’t work out between you and my sister.” She elbowed Maren in the ribs. “You’ll always be auntie Maren.”

“Ah yes. The evil, sneaky trickster aunt.” She grinned, feeling an unexpected relief. Mischief glinted in her eyes as she gave Anna a look. “Maybe you should have read that contract after all.”

“Don’t you dare_,_ Honeymaren Nattura. Don’t you _dare._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my handle is "spookyscaryskeletons" because if I write a story long enough it will eventually include spooky, scary, and skeletons  
(send shivers down your spine)
> 
> so this chapter was "do my partner and I have different life goals", "oh shit, grown-up paperwork", "some marriages are bad" and "long term consequences of terrible parenting"  
also known as "scary"
> 
> "Buttons what about the spooky and the skeletons?"  
wait for it 
> 
> "Buttons why are you putting iduna and agnarr on such a negative light?"  
because. not to be rude but. what the fuck. what the. what in the everloving fuck. what other light am i supposed to put them on. nothing they did is remotely okay. the level of emotional violence those children were treated with is surreal. social isolation is crippling to a kid. y'all know that. we all were gays in high school once. 
> 
> agnarr, purposefully or not, replicates his villain father's stance on magic. the grandfather goes "magic is evil" and agnarr goes "y'know, it's not that I think it's evil, but maybe,,,, conceal don't feel don't let it show????? ever????" like a fucking dursley hiding harry potter under the stairs what the actual fuck?? harry potter does way more magical screw ups than elsa's one (01) accident and even then we universally agree that his uncles are really, really bad.
> 
> it's messy. it's complicated. the figure of elsa's grandfather is that of a militaristic, colonizing bastard who did not hesitate to hurt, backstab and kill. everything about that character tells me he was the type to inflict physical punishment on his children. and that gives me agnarr, a good boy who was raised by a bad man. he's not inherently cruel, but he's replicating attitudes he deosn't know how to change. like the fear of magic. and who knows, maybe, like the violent outbursts. would he hit his daughters? never. but would he break things in anger? i don't know. possibly. his father surely did, and that was _better_. better breaking his things than smacking him. in his mind, he's doing no harm. no one gets hurt. things can be replaced. 
> 
> and then there's iduna who grew up her whole life with a positive view of magic and when her daughter displayed an affinity, she consented to a violently repressive response against it. the only explanation i can come up with for that is apathy derived from crippling depression. which, well, would make sense considering she was cut off her whole community all of a sudden. agnarr marries her, half of love, half of guilt. there are genuinely good, happy moments between them. and then there are the kids. there's postpartum depression. there's hiding behind work, leaving one of her daughters locked in a room and the other roaming the halls alone for days, only seeing them during meals. 
> 
> they could be good flawed characters. we were robbed.
> 
> [puta the note is nearly the size of the story at this point. whatever.]
> 
> [special thanks to [meadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamond_dusted/pseuds/diamond_dusted) who keeps betaing this story even though I only write it in comic sans]


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[walks into the room with seven thousand words of chapter and about to make everyone fucking miserable]_ VIBE CHECK

She didn’t understand what Anna had meant when she described the castle until she actually got close to it. Her first impression, of course, was that it was big – a behemoth sprouting from the mountainside like a weed that grew from cracks between stones. Her second impression, because she was forced to look again, was that it was strange in a way she couldn’t quite name.

Then she had to look a third time, and a fourth, because its shape seemed to slip from her memory as soon as she tore her gaze away. Every time she laid eyes on it again, she _ knew _, deep inside her, that it wasn’t quite the same as it had been five seconds before.

It was cold. Which made sense, considering the altitude, but the closer she got to it, the colder it seemed to grow, as if the walls themselves were sucking in the heat. By the time Maren got to the massive door, her teeth were chattering and she could see puffs of air condensate when she breathed.

When she turned around – and she only did so briefly, for it felt unsafe to turn her back on the castle – she could see all of Arendelle and even bits of the Forest spread out below her. The view was humbling, and on a normal day, Maren could have stared at it for hours.

But she had a castle to explore, and so she turned around and knocked. The sound reverberated louder than seemed logical, bounced off the icy walls and echoed back at her. Maren shivered. She could hear music coming from inside, just barely.

The door didn’t open. She felt a twinge of irritation. “Elsa, please.” _ It’s cold and miserable out here, _“I just want to talk.”

Silence. Maren rubbed her face with her gloved palms and groaned. She had half a mind to turn around and leave – she had a whole tribe back home to look after. The issue here was that she actually _ liked _ the emotionally constipated idiot who was hiding somewhere beyond these doors.

“Elsa, come _ on, _” she knocked again and shivered when her hand made contact with the ice, forcing her to recoil, struck by an unexpected feeling of dread. She stumbled back, gasping, her frustration turning into concern. “Please, just… just let me in.”

She waited. And waited. Eventually, the doors swung open with a rumble. Maren stepped in, and they slammed shut behind her, making her teeth chatter. There was light inside the castle, disparate beams seeping in through the windows and refracted into colors by the ice crystals.

Maren took a deep, shaky breath and crossed the atrium. Her footsteps echoed above the music, still distant, a cycle of slow deep notes that almost sounded like a lament. There were staircases on the other side of the room, spiraling up farther than the eye could see, but as many steps as Maren took towards them, they didn’t seem to get any closer.

The cold air nipped at her skin. She sped up her pace, faster and faster until she’d broken into a run, and then she bolted across the ice until she was out of breath. She turned around even though every fiber of her body told her not to. The entrance she’d come through was gone. When she turned back to where the staircases had been, she found nothing.

Maren wasn’t sure how long she walked through the darkness and mist, shivering, eyes wide. But when she finally managed to recognize some semblance of an environment, what she saw were doors. It took her a moment to realize that’s what they were, because they were huge, towering over her, the doorknobs hanging high above her head.

They were all closed. Maren walked past doors and more doors, breathing quick and shallow, and with each step she was struck by a growing sense she was no longer herself. She looked at her palms – sometimes they were her own, but sometimes they were small, her fingers short and childlike. The shifting was vertiginous.

And then, an open door.

Maren froze and turned around. The corridor around her had changed into colorful walls with paintings too large hanging on them. The door, now the only one, was barely open, light seeping through the gap. She walked over to it, her feet moving on their own, while also feeling a strange mixture of curiosity and childish trepidation.

She stopped by the entrance. Peeked through the crack. The light was blinding, and she shielded her eyes with her arm. There was a woman sitting on a bed too tall for Maren to climb on, long brown hair cascading down her shoulders and over her nightgown.

She was crying. Maren knew that from the sniffles she could hear, but also from a deep, suffocating pressure in her chest, a knowledge which was not hers, a memory that belonged to someone else. The woman was crying. Just like she had been crying many, many nights before.

Maren pushed through the door and stumbled into the room. The woman lifted her eyes, red and swollen, and quickly wiped the tears with her sleeve. Maren walked to her, a distance far too long for her short and clumsy legs. When she reached the edge of the bed, the woman bent down to pick her up.

“Elsa, sweetie,” she whispered, and her embrace felt warm and safe even though her tears made Maren anxious, “Why are you still awake?”

“I had a nightmare,” the words escaped Maren’s lips, and the voice she heard was her own, jarring and out of place. “I got scared. Mommy,” she raised her fingers, touching the woman’s damp cheeks. “Mommy, why are you so sad?”

Queen Iduna smiled through her tears and pressed a kiss on Maren’s forehead. “One day, dear,” she tucked Maren’s hair behind her ears, “One day, when you’re older, I’ll tell you.”

It was a terrible answer, because Maren knew, from the bubbling resentment inside her, that it was a lie. But her childish worries were soothed by a mother’s touch and Iduna laid her down on the bed and pulled warm blankets on top of her and all was right in the world.

Except it wasn’t.

Except it –

It was the ice. There was ice creeping into the room, crawling along the corners and the walls in bursts, jagged cracks and sharp edges that moved towards her like a wave closing in. The shadows grew longer, darker, until she could barely see Iduna’s face except for an eerie glint which might have been the white of her eyes or the shape of her teeth.

“Mommy,” Maren caught herself speaking again, and her heart felt as if it had climbed all the way up her throat. “Why did you do this to me,” she blurted, breathing faster, “Why did you lie, why did you let me be hurt, why did you FUCKING SMOTHER ME –“

Queen Iduna turned to face her, a pillow in hands. There was something wrong with her eyes, and Maren tried to move, to run, to scream, but her body was frozen in place and the pillow pressed down against her face, suffocating her despite her struggles. She was much too small, much too weak, the weight on her shoulders far too heavy –

Maren sat up and gasped for air, reaching for her throat. She was sweating, her fingertips trembling. _ What the fuck _ , she thought, her stomach twisting. _ What the fuck, what the FUCK – _

“ – hold this for me for a second, Elsa,” A male voice said, and Maren extended her hands. A moment later, something fell into them – a diaper, dirty, and Maren scrunched up her face in disgust.

“Ew!”

Agnarr snorted. He held a baby in one arm and a bottle with his free hand, and was carefully and persistently trying to feed the child. _ It’s Anna, _Maren realized, not only because it made sense but because of the almost overwhelming affection that warmed her up from the inside. She didn’t mind holding a dirty diaper if it meant she got to take an extra look at the baby.

“Yes, good girl,” Agnarr cooed, cradling Anna as she finally accepted the food.

Maren tiptoed to see, but Agnarr was too tall, and so instead she walked over to the dirty diaper bin and carefully deposited the smelly package in it, paying attention to avoid making a mess. She ran back to the bed and attempted to jump on top. It took her a couple attempts, and once she succeeded, she began hopping on the mattress.

“Papa,” she bounced, exhilarated at the obstacle she’d managed to overcome, giggling. “Papa, look!”

Agnarr turned and smiled at her, then shook his head almost regretfully. Anna finished the bottle, and he put it away, then placed Anna on his shoulder so that she could burp. “Elsa,” he said between giving Anna light taps on the back, “Daughter, please. Behave. Remember what I told you.”

Maren stopped jumping and nodded eagerly. “A queen must hold herself properly,” she recited, sitting down on the bed. She swung her legs over the edge. “Papa, can I see her?”

Agnarr sat down next to her, and Maren squealed, holding onto his shoulder to get close to the baby. “Hi, sister,” she mumbled, and once again, was hit by emotions that were far too mature, enough to give her whiplash. Anna looked up at her through wide blue eyes, sucking on her knuckles. “Hi,” she repeated. “Hi, sister.”

Anna burped, and Maren reacted with a giggle. Agnarr kissed the top of Anna’s head, then pulled Maren close with a single hand. Maren protested, laughing, but he wasn’t satisfied until he kissed her cheek too.

And then he let go and sighed, and his expression reverted to something somber. “You’re a good girl too, Elsa,” he ruffled her hair.

Maren felt the anxiety return without warning, a sucker punch to her stomach. ”Thank you, papa.”

“You have to take care of your sister,” he rubbed Anna’s scalp with his fingers. Maren nodded attentively. “And also your mama, okay?” He turned to face her. Maren sat perfectly still. “Because I won’t always be around, and you and I are strong ones, daughter. They will need us. And we have to take care of them. Do you understand me?”

“No,” Maren said, even though she did, she understood it perfectly, and there it was again – the feeling of barely repressed anger, the frustration. The guilt. There was ice crawling along the tops of the bedposts. Maren saw it, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“You will, someday,” he said, and hugged her again. She wanted to cry. Agnarr poked her nose. “Boop,” he said, then poked Anna’s. “And boop.” Maren giggled, but the ice – oh, the ice – she didn’t want to laugh. She would have run away, if her legs let her. “You’re a good girl, Elsa,” he repeated, but his tone was different now.

The room grew colder, darker. She could see the puffs of her breath. “You’re a good girl,” he repeated, over and over. Maren covered her ears and screamed. The room around her shattered into a million shards of ice, fragments which reflected her own image like mirrors, except it wasn’t herself she was staring at, but rather ashen hair and blue eyes and pale skin.

The emotional agony was disorienting, and Maren knew somehow, she _ knew _ if she faltered at all, if she wasn’t strong enough, then she’d be forever trapped in this labyrinth where the only way out was _ through _. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and braced herself.

When she opened them again, she was alone in a spacious room. She heard a door open and turned around. Queen Iduna walked in, holding a box, a small Anna following close behind. Anna couldn’t be older than four, and as Maren walked to the two, she mentally did the math for Elsa’s age.

Iduna placed the box on the floor next to a tall, decorated pine tree and opened it, revealing dozens of tiny, hand sewn reindeers. Maren felt something squeeze in her chest, an anguish she could recognize not as Elsa’s but as her own.

“Mama!” Maren squealed, and Iduna smiled. Anna tried to peek into the box, but was too short, so she picked one of the small plushies and handed over to her. And Maren couldn’t tear up – it wasn’t her memory, she wasn’t in control of the body she was reliving them with – but she would have, if she could.

Because each of the reindeer had an individual fur pattern. Each of them had different antlers. Each of them, she was certain, used to have its own life-sized counterpart back in the Forest. She picked another one up, and Iduna took it from her hands and placed it on the tree. As she did it, she hummed, louder and louder, until she broke into actual singing.

It was a Northruldan winter hymn.

“Mama,” Maren said, still helping with the tree. Every couple minutes, she’d turn back to check on Anna, who had somehow acquired a second reindeer and was currently engaging the two in what was no doubt a complex love story. “I don’t know those words.”

Iduna smiled, and Maren felt her heart shatter. “Mama will teach you, dear. But let’s finish the tree first, yes? What did your papa tell you?”

“One thing at a time,” Maren nodded. “Order is important.” She reached inside the box for a set of colorful glass ornaments, but they were too far down for her to reach, and Iduna helped by tipping the box over.

Upon hearing the noise, Anna immediately dropped what she was playing with and crawled into the box. Maren giggled. “Anna, no!” she tried to pull Anna back, but her body was that of a child and even a toddler was too heavy for her to carry. Anna made sounds of protest.

“Girls, behave,” Iduna chided, though her tone was light. Maren let go of Anna and bent down to pick a pair of red and green balls. Iduna ruffled her hair, and she felt an odd tangled mess of pride and resentment and guilt. “Elsa, sweetie, get me –“

There was a crashing sound and she turned around. Anna was holding a broken star-shaped decoration with wide eyes. “Oh no,” Anna said, frowning, staring at it. “Oh no oh no.”

Iduna sighed and stood. She took it from Anna’s hand, straightened the box up and tossed it inside. “Sorry,” Anna mumbled, pouting.

“It’s okay, dear. But you need to be careful. That’s glass. You could have been hurt.”

“Sorry?”

Iduna sighed, examined Anna’s hands for broken glass, then picked her up. “I’ll get another star for the tree. We can finish it tomorrow.”

Maren felt something stir inside her then, something powerful – an unrelenting burst of inspiration. “Let me do it,” She said firmly, stepping forward, almost in a trance.

She reached out and touched a low branch of the tree. Energy coursed through her like lightning, slipping from her fingers. Snow blossomed from the tree’s branches, covering them from the bottom up, until it reached the top and a single ice-crystal formed in the shape of a glittering star. The tree’s needles turned into frozen fractals.

When she turned around, it light snow was falling all across the room. She pulled back, scared, staring at her hands. But Anna was giggling and reaching out for the snowflakes, and that set her mind at ease. Iduna stared at her with wide eyes. “Elsa –“

“It’s magic,” Agnarr spoke, standing by the door. “It’s magic, isn’t it?”

She saw Iduna turn to him. She saw her awestruck expression turn into a look of dread. And then there was a high pitched noise, and the music she’d been hearing in the background got louder, sadder. The ice star exploded in a thousand pieces, glistening shards embedding themselves deep into the carpeted floor.

She backed away from the scene as it dissolved around her, until her back hit a wall she didn’t dare turn around to look at, breathing raggedly. It was cold, except the chill came from within, deep inside the marrow of her bones, cutting through her skin and reaching out.

She felt the desperate need to scream.

“Elsa,” Agnarr’s voice brought her back. She was sitting in a room, light shining in through a large triangle-shaped window. There were gloves on her hands. They itched, made her skin crawl. The cloth covering her fingers hurt in a way she couldn’t quite explain. “You’re breaking your mother’s heart, Elsa.”

She lifted her eyes. He stared at her with frank disappointment. She couldn’t see Iduna anywhere in the room, but she knew something bad had happened. She knew the queen had been crying every day since. “I don’t want to.”

“Then you need to stop it, dear. It reacts to your emotions. Conceal, don’t feel.” He reached out to her, hesitated, pulled his hand back.

And Maren realized then that she would do it, despite how much it hurt, how much it felt like fundamental violence against herself. “Okay,” she mumbled. “Conceal, don’t feel.”

“You’re strong, Elsa,” he touched her shoulder for a couple seconds, but no more. “Do you want to know a secret?” 

She didn’t, but that wasn’t the answer expected of her, so she nodded. 

Agnarr sat down on the mattress. “Not even kings can do everything on their own. There’s only one of me, Elsa, and I’m tired. I need your help. I spend all day running the kingdom, but I need to do it with a clear mind, and I can only do it if I know you’re taking care of our home, our family. And then, if you can do that, then I know you’ll be able to take care of Arendelle when you’re older. Because a kingdom is just a big home.”

Maren nodded and looked away. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke. “Papa, what… what’s wrong with mom?” 

“She’s sick, Elsa,” he sighed. “Sometimes bad things happen to people, and they catch a sickness. Your mother has lost a lot, and she’s become sick with sadness.”

“I want to make her better,” she raised her chin, determined. “Papa, how do we make her better? There must be a way. I want to help.”

“I don’t know, Elsa, that’s another secret.” He stood from the bed, towering over her. “Not even a king knows everything. And even a king makes mistakes. But you _can_ help, and I need you to do it. Your mother needs you. Your sister needs you. And I’ve taught you how you can be the person they need.”

“Conceal, don’t feel, do what I must.” She repeated, but it wasn’t okay. She was only a child, and didn’t want to have to be strong. She teared up. The gloves on her skin hurt. “I love you, papa.”

His expression softened. He paused for a second, stepped forward and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you too.”

“You’re a good girl, Elsa.”

Maren felt the burn of acid crawling from her stomach up into her throat. There was a knock at the door ander head snapped towards where she’d heard the sound. When she looked back, Agnarr was gone. 

The knocking started again, persistent. Maren stepped towards the door, ice spreading from under her feet, climbing up the walls and furniture. The room had changed around her but she couldn’t quite pinpoint how, except all the family portraits had been turned around so she could only see the backs of the frames. And someone was knocking on the door.

Someone was KNOCKING on the –

“Elsa,” she heard from across the wood. “Do you want to build a snowm-“

The voice distorted into an inhuman screech. Maren covered her ears. There was the distant sound of a door slamming, and then another and another, closer each time, until they were right next to her and her heart was pounding so hard it hurt. There were no longer walls around her. She broke into a run.

The doors kept slamming.

Maren screamed. She screamed and ran until her throat felt raw. It was too much, far too much, and she was crying against her will. She stumbled and fell and rolled on the ground, knowing by the time she got up the next memory would have caught up with her –

An open door. An office. She walked in, the door creaking when she pushed it open with one hand, the other holding a warm mug of something. Iduna sat on the desk, papers spread out in front of her and she was staring vacantly out the window. Maren sighed, closed the door and approached.

“Mom,” She touched Iduna’s shoulder, shook her gently. “Here, I got you some hot chocolate.”

Iduna turned around and took the mug from her hands, but neither offered a reply nor took a sip. Maren took it back after a while, the gloves on her hands keeping her from feeling any of its heat. She placed it on the table, then turned around and pulled Iduna up.

“Mom, come on,” she guided the queen to the couch. Iduna was still unresponsive. She felt a wave of anguish, eyes drifting from the woman back to the desk. “I – you just get some rest. I’ll finish the paperwork for you, don’t worry.”

This finally got a reaction from her, but barely. Iduna nodded, quick enough to be nearly imperceptible. _ Conceal, don’t feel, _ she heard the ghost of Agnarr’s voice whisper as she walked to the table to look at the documents.

They were all just sheets and sheets of blank paper.

She turned back to Iduna, feeling her heart race again. She was still there, on the couch, staring into nothingness, except now Maren could see her weeping silent tears. As she watched, they froze over, still on her face, the ice spreading across her skin. Iduna’s mouth fell open in a gape and the frost crawled down into her throat, paralyzing her into a silent scream –

Maren could hear the music again, except it was different now – faster, angrier. 

She was alone once more, in the same room with the large triangle-shaped window. She felt beyond tired, bone-deep exhausted. Her hands were bare, but they were shaking, and her fingers twitched. A flurry of snow emanated from them, followed by a relief so intense she could have cried. She flicked her fingers. Magic danced through the air, sprouting trees and flowers of ice all over the bedroom floor.

_It’s not bad_, she caught herself thinking, looking at the crystal chandelier that formed itself on the ceiling, _It can’t be this beautiful and be bad. It can’t feel this right and somehow be bad._ _It can’t – _her train of thought paused, and when it came back, it rang out with the certainty of _fact_. A self-evident truth. Just like the sky was blue, like water was wet, she thought, _I was born this way, and it’ll never change. It’s a part of who I am. And I’m not bad, so therefore it can’t be bad either._

She rose from the floor, opened and closed her hands, then let the magic flow free. 

There was a knock on the door. Maren wanted to build a snowman. She ran to it, as fast as her legs would allow it, because she needed the way out. And then Agnarr stood between her and the exit, dark rings under his empty eyes and white streaks showing in his hair, and he opened his mouth to say,

“You’re breaking your mother’s heart, Elsa.” She no longer needed to look up to stare at him, yet she couldn’t see his face beneath so many shadows. “You’re scaring us. Be a good girl.”

Maren turned around. The flowers, the crystals, they were all gone, replaced by angry sharp stalactites. The door to the corridor was open. She wanted to run away. Instead, she called the ice back, made it shrink and flow back into her like poison through her veins. 

“Conceal, don’t feel,” she hissed between gritted teeth. “Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it show.”

But she couldn’t, not anymore. She felt her knees give in, found herself sitting in the office, in the very same place her mother had been moments before – or were they years? – her gaze lost as she looked out upon the whole of Arendelle below. It _ was _ a beautiful view. The prospect of staring at it for the rest of her life made Maren want to puke. She looked down at the papers on top of the desk and felt her heart skip a beat.

_ Conceal, don’t feel, _ the sheet of paper at the top of the pile said. She crumpled it up. _ Conceal, don’t feel _, the one below it said. Maren went through one after the other, the same message over and over, with the letters distorting more heavily to into scribbles the further she got. On the very last one, four massive words occupied the entire page.

_ Don’t let them know. _

Maren pushed herself away from the table and stumbled to the window.

She could see Anna down in the courtyard below, crouched near a bed of rich purple flowers in the garden. As she watched, Anna jumped in surprise, touching the nape of her neck , then raised her eyes to the sky. Small snowflakes slowly began to pile on the ground, and Anna laughed, gathering them in her hands –

Agnarr kicked the door open. Maren shot him a look of pure, raw spite.

“Why,” He said, looking at the pile of documents spread on the floor. “Why are you so ungrateful? We gave everything up because of this, Elsa. For you. Why are you trying to ruin it?”

Maren stood where she was and said nothing. She pushed down the anger that bubbled inside her, knowing it would soon cool into hard ice. The world shifted and spun. The music continued in the background, and now she could tell that it was a piano, playing faster and faster.

_ I’m going to go fucking crazy, _ Maren stared at gloved hands. Her whole body shook. _ I’m going to lose it – _

“I never asked for any of this,” She heard herself saying. She was in Agnarr’s bedroom, and Iduna was there too, though Elsa’s memories told Maren that the parents hadn’t slept in the same room for a long while. “I don’t want this. I don’t want –“

“You have everything,” Iduna cut her short, much to her surprise. Maren felt her chest squeeze with dread. “You have everything, and you scorn it. I would give my life for what you have, Elsa.”

“I don’t –“

“Of course you didn’t ask for any of it. You never had to, did you? Because it’s always been there.” Iduna stood. “A family and servants to cater to every one of your whims and needs. All the food you could ask for, all the drinks, all the toys, we gave you everything, Elsa, what else could you possibly want –“

“I want a mother!” She yelled, the words spilling out of her control. “I want a father. I want friends. I _ want my sister back _.” She regretted speaking the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, even if they represented her truth, because she knew her parents would never see things her way. There was no dialogue to be had.

“Your sister,” Agnarr rose too, and though Maren was taller than Iduna, he still towered over her. “You know very well why we have to keep your sister away from you. Because you almost killed her. Because of the little magic stunts you so irresponsibly make a point to exhibit every time we get close. Don’t think I don’t realize you do it on purpose.”

And she did, Maren knew deep within her heart. An act of defiance. Her sole means of expressing herself. She didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think past the guilt, except she was so very angry – 

“I hate you,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I fucking hate you.”

“Don’t you dare to speak like that to your mother!”

She heard Iduna weeping. A look of hurt and fury crossed Agnarr’s face, and he slammed his fist on the nightstand by the bed, hard enough that the small mirror on top of it fell to the ground and shattered into pieces. The sound startled her, and she immediately backed away, heart drumming. A blast of magic exploded from her fingers and flew across the room, freezing one of the room’s doors solid.

Agnarr flinched, his head snapping to the door and then back to the broken glass. He pulled his hand back. “I don’t – look at what you made me do –“

He paused and stared at the ice, then slowly turned back to Maren. “You… froze the door to your sister’s room,” he whispered, horrified. “You didn’t hit it by accident. You’re scared of me.”

Maren said nothing, but took another step back. Agnarr sat down heavily, like the strength had suddenly left his limbs. “You’re afraid of me,” he repeated, staring at the floor. “Like I was afraid of my father. You’re–“He covered his face with his palms. Maren heard a strangled sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to be. I just – I just want to be a good man. I’m so sorry.”

_ You’re pathetic, _ the thought formed from aged bottled resentment within her - a self-aware monster that knew it was being unfair and maybe even cruel, but couldn’t stop itself from growing. _ You’re both pathetic. _

And Maren couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive him despite his words, but as Iduna touched his shoulders for comfort, she told herself to _ conceal _ and _ don’t feel _ and she didn’t let them know just how deep the hurt went. “I’m sorry, too,” she managed, the words bitter like bile upon her tongue. It was what she had to say.

“Leave us,” Iduna said, and Maren did, never turning away , never turning her back to them.

She walked through the door, and it slammed shut in her face. There was a quick flash of darkness, followed by exhaustion, and Maren realized her eyes were closed. When she opened them, she was sitting back at the office. The chair had been rearranged so that rather than facing the window, Maren had her back to it.

There was a mug of coffee on the table. She’d been working all through the night, Maren knew, because she had an explosive headache and there were half-read documents scattered all over, with her underlines invading the actual text. The door opened, and Iduna walked in.

“Oh,” she said, “There you are. Were you working overnight?”

Maren rubbed her eyes. Little white spots danced across her field of vision. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Just reviewing the new visa-issuing terms for the Southern Islands.”

Iduna sighed and closed the door behind her, then walked over. “You work too much,” she picked up the empty mug. “You’re becoming just like your father.”

_ And of course, I am , _ Maren thought, because it was just so much easier to bury her head in a pile of paperwork than it was to deal with the utter nightmare that was this dysfunctional family’s existence. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t, but she was strong enough. She’d endure. “Did you need something?”

“I do, actually, but it’s no problem.” Iduna arranged the papers on the table into a neat pile. “I’ll ask your sister instead.”

The words struck her like lightning, and she jumped to her feet. “No, it’s fine. What is it? I’ll do it.”

Iduna frowned. “Elsa, you need to rest –“

“I _ said _ ,” she hissed. “I’ll _ do _ it.” And she was good at concealing and good at not letting things show, but she was so very tired and failed to adjust the intensity with which she spoke.

Iduna’s frown turned into a look of open hurt. “Elsa,” she turned back to look at the door, as if to check it was still there. Just to make sure she still had an exit. “You can’t keep me away from my daughter.”

Cold anger. Bitterness. A headache. Maren knew the words were true, but she was damned if she wasn't going to give it a try. “I can and I will. Don’t try me.”

“Elsa, this is hardly fair.”

She raised her head. Iduna was so very hurt, but so was Elsa, and though at this point Maren had a hard time detaching her emotions from Elsa’s, she could still feel her own heart break. “You already fucked me up. You don’t have to mess with the other kid. Leave Anna alone.”

The dry sound of a slap rang throughout the room, and Maren felt heat and pain spread through her cheek. Iduna recoiled, as if startled by her own action, and Maren slowly lifted a hand the spot where she’d been struck.

“Elsa –“

“Was it good?” Her tone was ice cold. “Did it make you happy? Triumphant? Regretful?” Her words were carefully selected, knowing they would be like salt to a wound. “Did you finally feel something?”

Iduna inhaled sharply, tearing up. Maren felt her own eyes burning. “I’m sorry,” Iduna muttered, but Maren knew Elsa’s eyes and expression held no forgiveness. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, and then added hastily: “Hit me back. Make it even.”

Maren closed her hands into fists and took a deep breath. She removed her gloves, slowly and methodically while holding eye contact, then threw them on the floor and placed her palms upon the table. Frost seeped from between her fingers, but it went no further than a few millimeters.

She held the position for five long seconds. “I am not a fucking monster.” 

The world grew blurry at the edges, though it might just have been her tears. The constant rumble of the piano stopped and the world dissolved around her. When the ground opened and swallowed her whole, Maren embraced it.

_ The problem was never the magic, _ Maren realized, _ it was easier to blame, but it was never out of control. It was always just Elsa. That was what couldn’t be controlled, that was the wild thing, not her magic but Elsa herself – _

She was standing in a corridor long enough to seem endless. She recognized it, barely, from prior memories, except now it was made out of pure ice. Maren walked, her footsteps echoing through the hall. Where the portraits used to be, she could see etched versions of those same pictures, a single crack running across the wall and over the subject’s faces, fracturing them into eerie smiles.

She walked into the king’s room, heart hammering against her ribcage. They weren’t home, neither Iduna nor Agnar, away on a spontaneous trip they’d told her nothing about, except she had always been smarter than they gave her credit for, and she’d seen a letter. She rummaged through the drawers for it until she found the envelope, its seal already broken.

Maren’s fingers were trembling when she pulled the paper from inside to read it. She skimmed it, caught the words _ out of control _ and _ somewhere safe _ and _ upon our return _. She felt it slip from between her fingers. They were sending her away for good, when they returned, if they failed to find whatever they were off looking for. And of course, they’d fail – they’d done nothing but fail her.

They were sending her away, and all she could feel was relief. 

She ran from the room, magic seeping out beneath her feet and between her fingers, her heart lighter than it had been in years. She had an urge to laugh. She hadn’t even cared enough to read where exactly she would be shipped off to – it was _ away _, and she’d be free.

And then there came a noise to her right and she turned. Anna lay upon the couch in the ballroom, engaged in a profound chat with one of the pictures on the wall. Maren smiled despite herself, amused. She missed Anna, longed for her company, and though she knew it was better for Anna if she stayed away, she couldn’t help but stand by the door.

And listen in.

“It’s been sort of lonely, Joan,” Anna crossed her legs at the ankle and stared at the painting. “When mom and dad are away, I have no one to talk to. I miss Elsa. I wish she’d talk to me.” Maren felt a pang on her chest. Anna sighed. “I don’t know where I went wrong, what I did. I wish she’d tell me. I’ve asked dad, but all he tells me is not to worry about it, ‘cause I’m a good girl.”

Maren stumbled back, gaping, feeling as if she’d been punched in the gut. The ground was still in place, even though she felt like falling. She was hit by an emotion so crushingly overwhelming she couldn’t put it into words – pain, disbelief, anger, guilt.

And above all: it felt like failure. She wanted to throw up. She broke into a run, her thoughts too fast for understanding. The piano played the same mournful motif it had in the very beginning, except now it was being played in reverse. She slammed a door open with her shoulder and barely had time to close it again before the ice exploded.

She screamed. A flurry formed around her, knocking things over. She clenched and unclenched her fists, her throat raw. Sharp ice poked grew across the walls and from every corner. She slammed her fists against the wall and thunder exploded outside. Maren stumbled back, dizzy, and retched, but her stomach was empty.

There was hail crashing against the window. A sob escaped her throat, a sense of hopelessness that threatened to crush her completely. She stood against it with a single, unshakable belief that she was _ good _ –

And felt it crumble.

She gasped for air, fell to her knees. The rage broke through again, unchained, and she slammed her fists upon the floor again and again until they hurt, and then she continued. The wind howled outside. With each strike she made, there came flashes of lightning. 

_ I thought I would have done anything _ , she heard Elsa’s voice, crystal clear over the disturbing reversed tune, _ to keep my sister safe. But I couldn’t protect her, not really, and I was too petty, too selfish to endure everything in silence. I am going to be sent away because of it, and that will leave Anna on her own. And I suppose that means – _

Maren stopped moving, shaking. A violent thunderstorm raged outside. She felt dizzy.

_ \- that means I wasn’t any good, after all. _

The corners of her vision darkened. Maren collapsed onto cold, hard ice. She broke into violent shivers, so hard her teeth chattered. She stared at her hands, her own hands, ran fingers over her arms and pinched herself as if to make sure she was still real. The abrupt dissociation from Elsa’s memories felt like ripping off a part of herself.

She stood, her stomach turning, still dizzy, and told herself to start counting things – three chandeliers, five windows, one door – the world settled back into place around her. She steadied herself against a large ice pillar and made her way up the damned staircase, taking slow steps, leaning against the rail for support.

Elsa sat there, in front of a piano made of pure crystal at the top of the stairs, her head bowed down as her fingers flew over across the keys. Maren opened her mouth to greet her, but only a cough came out. Elsa turned to her, and for a moment there was something in her eyes which Maren finally understood – the cold, cutting anger and the true depth of it she’d just come to learn.

_ That anger is dangerous, _ Anna’s words echoed through her mind, and as Maren scanned the room, she finally noticed something else – lying at its center, right next to the piano, were a trio of coffins made of opaque, white ice. Their sides had been etched, intricately decorated with symbols Maren did not recognize.

The first two were closed and looked as though they had been that way for quite some time, with sharp icicles hanging along the edges. The lid of the third coffin sat ajar, and Maren could see it was empty, but looking away from it, she suddenly felt the inexplicably haunting sensation that the other two beside it… were not.

Her mind trickled on the edge of a revelation, something that linked what was in front of her with what she had seen. _ Be careful, _Anna had warned her.

Elsa stared at her, fingers still hovering frozen over the piano keys, and in this moment Maren felt truly afraid. 

“Hi,” she whispered hoarsely, sheepish and scared, heart still racing. “Do you, um… do you want to build a snowman?”

She didn’t hear the reply. The dizziness struck again, stronger this time, and the world faded into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **   
S P O O K Y  
S K E L E T O N S   
**
> 
> it be like that sometimes fam 
> 
> "buttons i came here for a good time and i'm feeling so attacked right now"  
hopefully just by the story and not by your own parents
> 
> "buttons will you share an excerpt of your creative process for this tragic bullshit?"  
me: hm i hope i can somehow make elsa's parents sympathetic  
meadows, reading my draft: yo this guy deserves a lifelong adobe putoshop license
> 
> "buttons did she MURDER her own PARENTS?????"  
idk, maybe, that's up to interpretation. she sure thinks so tho  
[the alternative is that her horse murdered her parents so either way elsa is very heavy metal]
> 
> "what the everloving fuck were your goals with this"  
top elsa: origins
> 
> [special thanks to [meadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamond_dusted/pseuds/diamond_dusted) who walks into my drafts like Kristoff in lost in the woods: "up is down, in is on, across is through, honestly where the fuck did this kid learn english and why wasn't she taught prepositions"]
> 
> [and remember children: the comments are an open PvP zone. have fun.]


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pathological process/therapeutic intervention  
or as you plebs like to call it  
hurt/comfort

The thing about being with Elsa, and more importantly, the thing about being in love with Elsa, Maren thought when she opened her eyes, wincing at the light, the thing was, it was easy to forget the effect Elsa had on her. Their moments together were so far apart, it was easy for Maren to forget the dull ache of longing, easy for her to be surprised by Elsa every single time.

Maybe it was the castle’s strange magical influence, or maybe it was the aftereffects of her involuntary nap. But when she stirred from unconsciousness and found herself wrapped in blankets, she felt as if her skin had been ripped to expose the fringes of her nerves to the world.

She was punched in the face by her feelings, even more intense than usual. There was something new inside Maren’s heart, a fear born of the undeniable realization that she had been wrong – that she’d grossly misjudged the person Elsa was and what she was capable of.

And yet.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings. She was no longer in the same room she’d arrived at. Gone were the coffins and gone were the doors, even the one that led to the balcony with no railings which opened into the abyss below.

Elsa sat there, her legs dangling dangerously over the edge. The sight of her made a chill run over Maren’s spine. She knew, with her rational mind, that she should be cautious – if the castle did  _ this _ to her, she couldn’t imagine what it was like to Elsa. She knew there was an inherent danger to her situation, one Anna herself had warned her about.

And  _ yet. _

Elsa’s magnetism was undeniable, drawing her in, turning the world around her into black and white so that the only color Maren could see was the icy blue of her eyes. Maren couldn’t tear her eyes away from Elsa, from the curve of her neck to the moles on her shoulders. Her heart ached to touch Elsa, to press kisses to Elsa’s collarbones, to feel Elsa’s lips on hers.

Trying to resist it was futile – like struggling against a riptide, like trying to walk on the direction of a strong wind. Maren stretched her legs. Her back was against a wall which, like everything else on the castle, was made of ice.

The room had no exit but the balcony, which alarmed her. And yet the blankets had methodically been wrapped around her in order to cover her from head to toe, and her shivering had stopped, and when she ran her fingers through the soft fabric, it warmed her up in more ways than one.

And she understood, then, that the fear that gnawed on the edge of her consciousness wasn’t for her life or her physical integrity – if anything, the memories she’d just witnessed proved Elsa’s control over her magic had always been better than she was credited for. Rather than that, Maren feared because she  _ knew  _ that something between them had been irrevocably changed and things would never be the same again.

If anything, she realized as she stood on wobbly legs, watching Elsa’s hair whip with the wind, if anything, she feared for a broken heart. Because her feelings had grown from longing to need, and she loved Elsa to a point she could no longer imagine her life without her.

She’d loved people before, but not like that – never like that. And she had more questions than she could possibly be able to put into words. Her chest ached with the nearly crippling agony of someone who knew she stood before an exchange of words that would change her whole life.

Maren grabbed one of the blankets when she moved, the one she found the fluffiest, and held it close to her body. Elsa didn’t turn when she approached, but Maren could tell by the way Elsa set her jaw that her presence had been noticed. For a moment, she held her stance, eyes drifting to the mountain below.

Looking at Elsa was never just looking at the person – it involved a certain awareness of the world around them, because Elsa’s presence went beyond the limits of her skin. In a way, it was an oddly positive thing that Maren had been raised to be empathetic and acutely aware of her surroundings, because it came naturally to her – the snowstorm instantly translated into turmoil, the howling winds nearly whispering Elsa’s tales of anguish.

“What did you see?” Elsa asked, her tone even, and her voice was enough to send Maren’s heart racing. She stared at the horizon, because if she looked at Elsa, she wouldn’t be able to think straight.

“A lot of anger. A lot of darkness.” Maren licked her lips, broken by the cold, and felt them burn. “A lot of beauty, too. I saw you.”

The wind flapped against her clothes, nearly tearing the blanket from her hands. She held on tightly.

“Maren,” Elsa said, her tone dry. “Look at me.”

Maren did look at her – at the muscles on her arm and the light flush of her skin and the soft pink of her lips. She’d heard old wives’ tales before, of people who looked a bit too closely into the occult and were never able to look away, but now, finally, she understood what it meant to be bewitched. Elsa’s presence was so strong, so intoxicating, the world seemed to blur around her.

“Sit,” Elsa commanded, and Maren obeyed. If Elsa told her to jump off the edge, Maren feared she wouldn’t quite be able to resist. Elsa licked her lips. Maren inhaled sharply and wondered if that was how a reindeer felt upon looking at the closing jaws of a wolf. “Speak.”

“I –“ she hesitated, unable to form words, then cleared her throat. Elsa broke eye contact, and that split second of relief was enough for something else to bubble inside her – something so inherently hers, such a natural impulse, not even Elsa’s disorienting aura could suppress it. “Here,” she mumbled, and threw the blanket over Elsa’s shoulder, careful not to let their skins touch. “It’s freezing.”

Elsa stiffened, her fingers gripping the icy floor. Maren’s whole body responded to the movement, and it took all her willpower not to give in to Elsa’s gravity. Her hand itched to touch Elsa’s, but she felt it wasn’t the right moment.

For a long moment, there was silence. And then Elsa sighed. “You should keep it. The cold doesn’t bother me.”

And Maren hadn’t quite been aware of it, but when Elsa spoke, she felt the nip of the wind against her skin and rubbed her arms. “Doesn’t the warmth please you, though?”

For a split second, Elsa turned to her, burning blue eyes, robbing her of her breath, then she looked away and lifted her arm. “Come,” She motioned with her chin without making eye contact. “Lest you freeze to death, you stubborn fool.”

Maren scooted closer until their sides touched, and when her arm brushed against Elsa’s, she felt as if her skin had been set on fire. Elsa didn’t pull away, and so Maren didn’t either, even though the tips of her fingers trembled. She was close enough that she could smell Elsa’s scent, though it felt different this time, almost citric.

The wind buffeted her legs. Maren took a peek down. The height was vertiginous, and Maren pulled her legs up and crossed them. She let the quiet stretch between them again. Her heart was drumming against her ribcage so hard, she was sure Elsa could hear it.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Elsa said eventually, and when she spoke, the wind itself grew quieter so that there was nothing but her voice. “I don’t know if I was ready for you to…” Maren felt her shrug.

“I…” her voice broke. Her throat felt raw. “You opened the door, though, didn’t you?”

“No.” Elsa pulled her legs back and hugged them. “Not consciously, anyway. But the castle sort of does its own thing.” She rested her chin on her knees. “I suppose, in a way, it means I did let you in.”

“Oh.” Maren took a moment to process that information, but her mind felt foggy and she had too many new details about Elsa to understand. “I – we don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.”

“I’ll never be comfortable opening up, Maren,” Elsa bumped their shoulders together, sending a jolt up Maren’s spine, then sighed. “But this is probably the closest I’ll ever be, now that everything is already in the open. I just…”

“Mmh?” Maren tilted her head, drinking in Elsa’s expression. Save for the brief tensing of her jaw, it betrayed nothing. Maren found her gaze trapped on the curve of Elsa’s lips.

“I want you to promise me that you’ll be honest.” There was the slightest quiver to the tone of her voice, the only tell of the emotional turmoil Maren had just gotten a taste of. That, and the flurries forming around them. “And I don’t mean just not telling lies. I mean everything, Maren. Don’t… conceal things from me, either. Can you promise me that?” Elsa grabbed her hand. “Please.”

She looked at their touching hands, Elsa’s fingers much longer than her own, gently covering her palm. Maren would have given Elsa her heart on a platter, if Elsa asked for it. But there was a certain resignation to Elsa’s tone that told Maren that she might have been expecting a refusal. Maren took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I can.”

Elsa turned to her then, licked her lips and eyed her long and hard. Maren felt as if she’d just eaten a mouthful of living moths. “What finally did it? What was it that scared you?”

_ The power you have over me _ , she thought, fiddling with the fringes of her blanket. She didn’t try to deny it – she’d promised honesty, after all, and she didn’t think she could lie right then even if she tried. Instead, she let the feeling wash over her and considered it.  _ The power. Seeing you use it. _

Elsa, unsurprisingly, let her take her time.

“When you…” Maren began, then paused. “Everyone has vulnerabilities. And when you see into someone’s heart, well, there’s power in that. In knowledge. Once you hold that power, you have to choose what to do with it.” Elsa rubbed circles on her palm. Maren shivered. “But you know that. You know power more than I do. You were raised for it.”

“Mmh. Among other things I was raised for.”

Maren nodded. Elsa’s thumb moved to her wrist, cold yet burning, making it hard to think. Maren took a deep breath and gathered her scattered thoughts. “I see it as a key, you know? Something that opens…doors…uhm, maybe not the best metaphor for the situation –“

“It’s honest,” Elsa interrupted. “Honest and real. I don’t mind.” Her thumb hovered over Maren’s skin, pressing gently against her pulse. When Elsa looked at her, Maren’s heart sped, and then Elsa smiled and it raced faster, a vicious cycle that had her feeling dizzy. “A key, then,” Elsa said, partly breaking the spell.

Maren took quick, shallow breaths. “Yeah, I – this is silly.” She blushed, from cheeks to ear tips, and wondered if Elsa could see it. “But, um, it’s not a key for everyone. For Anna, that knowledge, that power, well, it’s probably more like a battering ram. Anna doesn’t do well with doors.” Elsa snorted, and Maren felt as if it was easier to breathe. “But it’s different to you, isn’t it? To you, it’s a weapon.”

Elsa didn’t answer, but Maren felt her tense.

“It’s okay,” Maren grabbed Elsa’s palm, held it between both her hands. Elsa’s eyes drifted to where they touched, then back to Maren, acknowledging and allowing the contact. Maren felt her own tension roll off her shoulders. “That’s not new. I’ve always known it.”

“How?”

“Only people who know that words can cut as sharp as any blade reveal so little about themselves as you do.” Maren took a deep breath and released it slowly. Elsa’s smell was driving her crazy. “What scared me was seeing you use it. Anyone can hold a sword, but very few would use it to run someone else through. I don’t – I don’t mean to sound judgmental,” Maren squeezed Elsa’s hand, palms sweating despite the cold. “You were pushed to your limits and you reacted accordingly.”

Elsa arched an eyebrow. “ _ That  _ was what scared you? Not the unstoppable ice magic, but the fact that I know how to be mean?”

It did sound silly when she put it that way, but it was the truth. Maren shrugged. Elsa freed her hand from between Maren’s, then ran a thumb over Maren’s knuckles. Maren exhaled. The gesture was oddly soothing. “What scared me wasn’t that you know how to be mean, but that you’re aware of that, and you’d still choose to do it. I thought you were unwilling to hurt. I was wrong.”

Elsa inhaled sharply and held the breath for a long time. Maren saw her set her jaw, saw the spark of anger that set the weather in motion again. “What would you have me do, then? Be a victim?”

“No, not at all.” Maren shook her head. “I wouldn’t have you be anyone but yourself. But to inflict a wound is never an easy choice to make, Elsa. Not for good people, at least. It’s a big weight. You shouldn’t have to carry it by yourself.”

“It’s  _ my _ weight. Born of my decisions. It isn’t fair to ask anyone else to shoulder it.”

And despite herself, Maren snorted. “Your sister is right, you know. You’re an idiot.” Elsa narrowed her eyes at her, and Maren sucked in a deep breath again, hypnotized by the lines of her jaw and by the way her hair framed her face. “I love you,” the words spilled against her will, and once they were out there, Maren felt as if she’d just wrapped a noose around her own neck.

“Mm.” Elsa closed her eyes and didn’t speak. Each second of silence made her feel as if her throat was tighter. The wind roared louder. Maren watched flurries form, touch the ground and spin. She saw the beauty behind the danger. She saw the danger behind the beauty. When Elsa opened her eyes, the weather went as still as a held breath. “Do you think they loved me, Maren?”

“I think,” she chose her words with caution, “I think their love wasn’t good for you, and – and love can’t be imposed. It has to be accepted. And you shouldn’t have to accept something that hurts just because – I’m sorry, this is overstepping.”

“Honesty,” Elsa chirped.

Maren paused, then offered Elsa a small smile. “There are many reasons people will accept a love that hurts. Sometimes they think that’s what they deserve. Sometimes they’re afraid they won’t find anything better. Sometimes they don’t know how to turn it down, and sometimes… they feel responsible for others.” She shook her head. “Whatever it is, it – people should be free to say no. To refuse something harming them, to say enough is enough. To walk away and come back as they deem fit.”

“Just like your reindeer,” Elsa smiled at her in a way that was so open and sincere, Maren nearly teared up. She’d climb through this creepy castle a thousand times to see her smile like that. “You are a big, oddly wise softie, Honeymaren Nattura.” Elsa lifted her eyes to the sky. “I’m so in love with you, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“I –” Maren faced her, mouth agape, cheeks burning, then grit her teeth and drew a breath between them. She looked at Elsa and saw a vulnerability she’d never witnessed before, out in the open between tensed muscles, parted lips and pupils wide with barely contained desire. “Show yourself to me, Elsa,” she whispered, then leaned in.

Elsa’s hands moved to grasp her face and hold it firmly in place when their lips crashed together. Maren felt the heat rising from her abdomen and spreading throughout her whole body, her hands seeking Elsa’s waist, her whole body leaning into the kiss. She didn’t stop when her cracked lips ached from Elsa’s nibbles, nor when Elsa’s weight pushed her off balance, dangerously close to the edge. She only broke the kiss when she felt dizzy from the lack of breath, and even then she didn’t want to stop.

She stared at Elsa’s half lidded eyes, disarrayed hair and kiss swollen lips and felt weightless. Her body was so warm, she was afraid the platform would melt under her. When Elsa sucked on the skin below her neck, Maren moaned, gripping Elsa’s shoulder when she felt a hand on her thigh. “Fuck –“

Elsa, much to her chagrin, pulled away. “Later,” Elsa murmured, running her thumbs over Maren’s cheeks, looking hungry. “Later, if you so you desire, I’ll have you kneel before my throne.” She pulled Maren into an embrace, hugging her from behind and resting her chin on Maren’s shoulder. “For now, though, you’ve requested something of me – possibly the hardest thing you could ask for.”

Maren’s body still felt as if it were on fire, and she took long, deep breaths, matching Elsa’s rhythm. The brush of Elsa’s hair against the skin of her neck made her shiver, but Elsa’s arms around her felt so comforting, so  _ right _ , Maren couldn’t help but relax into her embrace. The rational part of her mind warned her that she was putting herself completely at Elsa’s mercy, but Maren didn’t care.

“I’m afraid, Maren,” Elsa’s fingers ghosted over Maren’s arms, bringing out goosebumps. “I’m afraid I’m trapped in this cycle my parents put me in.” Her fingers trembled. “It’s stupid. They’re gone, but I still… I’m afraid of repeating their mistakes.”

Maren couldn’t see her face, but there was a rawness in the tone of her voice that only happened when Elsa spoke from her heart. Maren squeezed Elsa’s fingers. “You realize the only way of preventing that is going out there and making your own mistakes, right?”

“Such wisdom. Where did you learn all that?”

“Yelana and mushrooms.” Maren leaned into her caresses. “Uh… not at the same time. Not usually, at least.”

Elsa snorted and pressed her nose against the top of Maren’s head. Maren got the sense she wasn’t quite done talking, and so she waited, the silence between them growing comfortable. Sure enough, after a while of enjoying each other’s touching, Elsa spoke again. “You’re right. I do turn knowledge into a weapon. I’m angry all the time and that’s because I feel so… powerless.”

“Huh.” Maren turned slightly sideways so she could catch a glimpse of Elsa’s face.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Elsa sighed. “It doesn’t matter that I can make whole castles of ice and create life through magic. It doesn’t matter that I was queen or that I’m the fifth spirit. Because despite all of that, I never feel quite safe. I’m scared of  _ something _ I can’t even name, and by trying to run away from it, I run from everything else.” She made brief eye contact. “And then I get angry at myself for running, and angry at the world for being so cruel. For making me into the mess I am.”

“Your parents tried to control you through fear,” Maren concluded. “And you freed yourself by turning that into anger. But now they’re gone, and you’re left with this… this sinkhole you’ve lit on fire and it refuses to stop burning.”

“Poetic.” Elsa smiled, though Maren could see tears in the corners of her eyes. She reached out to wipe them, and Elsa leaned into her hand.

“Do you feel safe around me?” Maren rubbed her thumb on Elsa’s cheeks.

Elsa took a moment to consider the question. “Sometimes, but not always.” She retracted, and Maren rested her palm on Elsa’s knee. Elsa stared at it, but didn’t move. “I’ve made myself too vulnerable to you to ever feel fully safe, I think. But I…” she licked her lips. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you. I’ve thought about how I could, many times, but I’ve never wanted to. Maybe… maybe that’s as close to feeling safe as I get.”

“I don’t think so. I think you can learn to trust.” Maren leaned her head on Elsa’s chest. “But what you have is a start, at least.” Elsa tangled her fingers on Maren’s hair and she hummed. “I’ll probably end up hurting you sometimes,” Maren mumbled. “That happens when two imperfect people fall in love. But never intentionally. Never systematically.” She raised her head and held Elsa’s gaze. “I hope you’ll learn to trust me, some day. If you’ll still have me, that is.”

Elsa bowed her head so that their foreheads touched. “I think I will, Miss Nattura.” She pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. “I think I’ll have you for myself. I think I’ll keep your little smiles and your soft-spoken words and your oh-so-wise metaphors. I think I’ll have your warmth to balance out the cold of my frozen heart.” She wrapped her arms around Maren’s neck. “If you’ll have me, too.”

“You make it hard to refuse.” Maren smiled and gave Elsa a peck on the lips. “We do have to talk about the very ominous pair of closed caskets and the even more ominous one that was open, though.”

“Mm.” Elsa backed away and broke eye contact, inhaling. She licked her lips and raised her eyes to the sky, deep in thought, as if the hovering clouds could grant her an answer. “I didn’t go to the funeral, when they died. Anna buried empty coffins. I couldn’t bring myself to show up. I wasn’t ready to deal with the consequences of…” she shrugged and raised her head. “I killed my parents, Maren.”

“You don’t know that.”

Elsa scowled, and Maren immediately knew she’d said the wrong thing. “Does it fucking  _ matter _ ?” Elsa dug her nails on the icy floor, scraping it, then realized what she had been doing and pulled her hand away. “Even if the storm that killed them and the storm I created on the exact same day turned out to be unrelated coincidences, they were still on that boat because of me. How many layers of guilt do you need from me?”

And Maren couldn’t help but notice that despite the venom in her tone, the weather remained perfectly unchanged. All of Elsa’s emotions shifted the world around her, except this - her rage ran cold and deep yet silent. Maren thought about the memories she’d witnessed and finally understood - save for the incident in which she finally broke down, it was at her angriest that Elsa had the most control. “I’m sorr-“

“No, I am.” Elsa shook her head and looked away. “You came all this way for me, and you deserve better treatment. I apologize.”

“It’s okay. You’re prickly.” Maren smiled.

"Uh." Elsa’s cheeks took a slightly red tint and she shook her head. “Nokk took me to their bodies, frozen solid. Waiting for me. And I guess I… I just didn’t know what to do with them.”

Maren blinked, trying to process what she’d just heard. “I - you - you  _ what?”  _ Elsa opened her mouth, but Maren interrupted her with a raised palm. “Correct me if I’m wrong but you… seem to come here often. Maybe even live here.” Elsa nodded. “So you found your parents’ bodies and decided to just keep them. Here. In this weird mixture of vacation home and monument to your sins... rather than, you know, burying them?”

“I couldn’t very well bring them back to Arendelle and subject Anna to losing them again.” Elsa shrugged. “You’re right, though. Anna buried them, she turned that page. I didn’t. I didn’t give myself the chance to grieve – I didn’t think I could withstand it. But now, maybe,” she paused. “Maybe you could teach me the Northruldan way. I could give them – mother, in particular – that much.”

It sounded like a good idea, but something else jumped to the front of Maren’s thoughts. “What about the third casket, though?”

“The third one is mine,” Elsa said, her tone dark. “But I don’t feel ready to talk about that.” Elsa arched her eyebrows at Maren as if challenging her to protest, but Maren merely nodded. Elsa dropped her gaze. 

“Well, I’m not a shaman, but I… as current chief, I do have the authority to command the rites.” Maren covered Elsa’s hand with hers and stared at the horizon. “We can do it. A shallow grave, covered by rocks rather than earth, to make it easier for their souls to flee their bodies and reach the spirit world. Buried in a place of power. A place where you can go and… talk to them. Pay your respects.” Maren shrugged. “Or yell at them, if you prefer. That’s also valid.”

Elsa’s lips curled up, and Maren had the urge to kiss her again. “Will you do it for me, then? A personal favor to the princess of Arendelle.”

“Of course.” Maren smiled. “It would be diplomatically imprudent to refuse.”

“And then,” Elsa spoke, tentatively, “I’ll come back to the village with you. I – I’ll stay. Not every day, but… consistently.”

“Thank you.” Maren’s smile widened and she felt warmth spread across her chest. “And take your time.”

Elsa stared at her then, for much longer than was polite, and there was something both thrilling and scary in being the sole subject of Elsa’s full attention. A chill crawled up her spine when Elsa finally broke the silence, her voice rich with emotion. “I do love you, Maren. And I’ll try my best to make something good out of that.”

“We’ll make something good out of it together, Snowflake.” She pulled Elsa into a hug and held her, rubbing her palms against the small of Elsa’s back. Elsa hummed, and Maren felt herself melting. “We’ll figure it out, yeah? We’ll figure it all out.”

“…okay,” Elsa mumbled, hiding her face in the crook of Maren’s neck. “We will.”

She let her gaze drift over the world around her. There was snowfall, gentle and slow enough that Maren was tempted to put her tongue out and try to catch the snowflakes. She kissed Elsa’s temple, surprised at the pleased sigh she got in return.

“Maren?” Elsa spoke after a while, when they’d been holding each other for long enough that her muscles were starting to go numb.

Maren shifted, but didn’t let go. “Hmm?”

“Thank you for coming.” Elsa pulled back to look at her, cheeks flushed, but didn’t make eye contact. It was odd behavior from her - Maren wouldn’t quite go as far as calling it shy, but it was barely contained skittishness, as if Elsa was resisting a primal instinct of hopping on a water elemental and vanishing into the woods while singing haunting songs. 

Maren didn’t think that part of her would ever really go away - she hoped it wouldn’t, even, because it was such a fundamental piece of the puzzle that was Elsa. But then Elsa looked at Maren with such intensity, it made her feel as if she were the only person in the world. And when Elsa’s expression went from flighty to pensive to a genuine, open smile, Maren felt her heart skip a beat.

This time, when the urge to kiss her came, Maren didn’t hold back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "wow i thought this would go down much worse but they actually talked things out like adults, how come?"  
the author has had over three years of training in mental health and wants the readers to see that they should Talk To Their Partners (tm)
> 
> "even about the dead bodies kept on the living room?"  
_particularly_ about the dead bodies kept on the living room 
> 
> "is maren magically bewitched or is she just horny for elsa's massive witchy lesbian energy?"  
yes
> 
> "buttons the previous chapter was better, how come?"  
no chapter will ever be as good as chapter 11. this is due to the fact that chapter 11 was a horror chapter, and i am, primarily, a horror writer. the rest of the story is merely a hostage for that chapter. everything else is the equivalent of romance written by stephen king. have you read romance written by stephen king? it's not good
> 
> [did you know: I used to send the drafts to Meadows on docx files (written in comic sans), but then I finally adhered to gdocs and now I just paste them in a single file called "puta merda"?
> 
> (still written in comic sans)
> 
> [[Meadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamond_dusted/pseuds/diamond_dusted), reading my first draft: "It's good but I think you could somehow make it better, more tense."  
Me, three days after: "Were you going to tell me I was supposed to make Maren horny or was I supposed to figure that out by myself while watching Riverdale?????"]


	13. Chapter 13

In the first few weeks, Elsa showed up every other night. Because of her position as chief, Maren’s duties had become primarily administrative, and rather than moving around after the herd, she spent most of her time in the village, keeping track of food stocks, trade agreements, the occasional diplomatic envoy, the health of their children and elders, among other things.

The Northrulda weren’t big on paperwork, but people like the damn Arendellians couldn’t exchange a glass of milk without signing a formal treaty beforehand, and so Maren also spent a considerable amount of her time reading and signing documents. Elsa’s growing presence had the fortunate effect of lessening that burden, because spirit or not, her politically savvy past was both evident and helpful.

And despite how much she complained about it, Maren got the sense that Elsa had a good time when they sat down together under the light of candles, sharing warm coffee to keep themselves awake while reading over texts and treatises. Elsa never stayed for mornings, and Maren often caught herself looking forward to their time together when the sun set.

After three weeks, Elsa started showing up every night. The signs of her presence became more obvious then, in the decorations made of unmelting ice scattered around the house, from sculptures to shelves to chandeliers, and in the way she’d organize Maren’s clothes by color.

Maren appreciated it, even if it meant she spent a dozen extra minutes looking for her hat every morning. Ever since Elsa first walked into her life, Maren felt like she’d been discovering her quirks, and after nearly half a decade of being together, she thought she knew Elsa well.

But this, living with each other, was like pulling a curtain and revealing a whole new side of Elsa to her. Some things about the experience were convenient – like how whenever she’d drink a glass of water, it was always refreshingly cool – and some were just plain weird, such as –

“Clothes,” Elsa barked the moment Maren stepped through the door.

Elsa did not like clothes. It was strange to think about, because once she’d learned that, Maren realized that all of Elsa’s dresses were made of magic, and magic was not a type of fabric, and so Elsa was basically naked all the time.

“I know, I know,” she mumbled, pulling off her shirt, then kicking off her pants. She left her shoes by the door. A second later, she felt Elsa hug her from behind, shivering when Elsa’s cold skin touched her own. She leaned her head back and planted a kiss on Elsa’s cheek. “Hi, Snowflake.”

“Hi, Honey,” Elsa kissed the base of her neck, then let her go. “How was your day?”

It was confusing to Maren at first, the way she insisted their skin should be bare every time they touched. Counterintuitively, there was nothing inherently sexual about it either. Elsa appreciated skin-to-skin contact, be it in the shape of hugs or kisses or a simple accidental brush of their fingers. Maybe it was a nature spirit thing, being free of restrictions.

Either way, Maren didn’t mind. Northrulda were naturally affectionate, and the missing layers of leather between them did little to change that. “It was good. Ryder is really excited about the summer festival. He might finally ask his girl to marry him. I’m hoping for nephews.” She grinned. “I’ll teach them all manners of pranks to make his life a nightmare. Here, I brought soup.”

Maren had the soup on a medium sized pan, which she put on the table. Elsa grabbed a pair of spoons and sat down. “You’re a prankster?”

Maren took a spoon from her, eyes twinkling. “With Ryder? Oh, yes. You bet. That boy did not have a single day of peace when we were growing up. I’m a nightmare elder sister.”

“I’d like to get to know him,” Maren didn’t interrupt when Elsa filled her mouth with soup, then swallowed. “Really get to know him, I mean. As more than acquaintances. As your…” she shrugged. “Suitor?”

“Nothing so queenly and formal, I’m afraid,” Maren smiled and let their fingers touch when they went for their spoons again. “Just ‘partner’. Making it official among the Northruldan would be… an interesting experience.”

Elsa tilted her head. “Whatever do you mean?”

Maren shrugged. “Well, people talk. Rumors spread. Everyone is mildly spooked by the concept of a spirit that haunts my house at night.” She paused to eat, then pointed to Elsa with her spoon. “The other day one of the teens stopped me to thank me for the sacrifices I’ve been making for the greater good.”

Elsa’s eyes widened. “The sacrif-” she burst out laughing, and Maren couldn’t help but smile with her. “Do they think – they think –“ Elsa burst into an incontrollable fit of giggles.

“That the reason behind the tribe’s recent prosperity is that I’m doing sexual favors for a cryptid in exchange for good harvests and healthy reindeers?” Elsa doubled over, tears forming on the corners of her eyes, and Maren started laughing too. “It’s not funny –” she tried and failed to protest, caught between giggles. “It’s offensive! All of my planning and working and decision making to make us thrive, and _ this _ is what they think is behind it?!”

“It makes for a much more interesting story.” Elsa grinned, taking deep breaths to steady herself. “This is fascinating. I was getting ready to take this step with you, Maren, but now part of me is inclined to leave things how they are.”

“I don’t mind, one way or the other.” Maren wiped her eyes and reached out for the soup again. “Politically speaking, it wouldn’t affect me all that much. Not among the Northrulda, at least. At this point, you’re a creature of myth. I can’t tell whether formalizing our union would make them more or less mesmerized. The _ Arendellians _, though…” She trailed off.

Elsa arched her eyebrows, cagey. “What about them?”

“I can’t help but wonder, it’s been a while since I was declared your suitor. You said the courting usually lasted a couple years?”

“A minimum of two, up to a maximum of four,” Elsa nodded. There was little soup left, and she grabbed the pan and drank straight from it. She slurped.

Maren did the math in her head. “Right. And it’s been four years something. Hey, leave me some soup!” Maren grabbed the pan from Elsa’s hands and took it to her lips, drinking until there was nothing left.

When she put it back on the table, Elsa was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Maren gave her a quizzical look, and Elsa responded with one of her own. “Well?”

“Mmh?”

“You said a maximum of four years. We’re a couple months past that. Does that mean my status as consort has been revoked?” Maren stood and grabbed the pan, then walked over to the basin to wash it.

Water delivered directly to their homes was an Arendellian marvel that had been brought to the village, after a negotiation with Elsa and the spirits and thorough planning so that it would have minimal impact on the forest around them.

It was worth it, all in all – they got to wash themselves and their possessions, which had great impact on the tribe’s health, and the sewage was dumped into large beds of reeds planted over gravel, which eventually resulted in a pond of clean water to be used at their farms.

The logic of it, presented by Arendellian scientists, was beyond Maren’s understanding, but not beyond Elsa’s, who asked questions and more questions with eagerness and shining eyes. Maybe it was a spirit thing, that much knowledge, though Maren suspected maybe it was just an Elsa thing.

She’d struck a balance, too, between her culture and the comforts, as hard as that was – the tribe still migrated after the reindeer, but the elderly, the young children and their mothers, and the wounded had a place they could stay without demanding more from their bodies than they could give. And when winter came, the whole tribe would gather around bonfires to share stories during the day, then cuddle up in their family’s shacks at night.

Maren watched water flow in and then leak out of the basin, and she was so fascinated by the marvel that was, she was almost unable to process what Elsa said next. 

“I suppose you lost the consort title, in a way?” Elsa took the pan from her hands and hung it so it could dry. “We’re engaged.”

There was a single moment of confusion as the words registered, and Maren heard the click of her own mouth falling open. “We’re _ what?!” _

“After the four years ran out, Anna had to either pick one of the suitors or restart the process with new candidates. And since repeating suitors is not allowed and I don’t really want anyone else, she went with engagement instead.”

“I – why didn’t I _ hear of this _ , Elsa?!” Maren ran her hand through her hair, exasperated. “Was I supposed to find out through an invite for _ my own wedding?!” _

Elsa blinked, sheepish, then wrapped her arms around Maren’s neck and pulled her close so that their torsos touched. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. I’m sorry.” Elsa pressed their foreheads together and laid a chaste kiss on Maren’s lips, and though Maren wanted to remain upset, it was hard to, what with how sincere Elsa’s puppy eyes seemed. “It takes a while for the news to travel, but we should eventually go back to Arendelle to pick up the gifts from the other suitors.”

“The other suitors?!” Maren pulled away, incredulous.

Elsa nodded. “Tradition dictates they each send a token to acknowledge their defeat in the process and prove there are no hard feelings.”

“Well – yes, but! You didn’t tell me there were other suitors!” She crossed her arms.

“I’m quite positive I mentioned the possibility?” Elsa reached out again, grabbed Maren’s hands and rubbed her thumbs on Maren’s wrists. Elsa craved touch to impossible extents when they were alone, and Maren could hardly deny her.

Giving in, Maren sighed and tugged her into an embrace. “Mentioning the possibility and mentioning that it actually happened are two different things, Snowflake,” she kissed the top of Elsa’s head.

When Elsa faced her, she seemed genuinely sad, and it broke Maren’s heart a little. “I didn’t think the difference was important.” She bowed her head and rested it on Maren’s shoulder. “I don’t understand why it is. I’m sorry if this is an issue.”

Maren took a second to consider how to explain it. She ran her fingers through Elsa’s hair. “It’s not nice to be blindsided by the possibility that there are people who want to…” She hesitated, looked for the right words and was surprised when she couldn’t find any.

“Take me away from you?” Elsa narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Get between us? Steal my affections?”

Maren winced. “None of those sound quite right, do they?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “You’re… I don’t think anything could keep you from something you want. The one person who could push you away from me is myself.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I… it made me feel insecure for a moment, though.” Maren touched Elsa’s cheeks, then broke eye contact. “I’d appreciate it if you told me those things. Our relationship is important to me and… when you leave me in the dark about things like these, I feel as if we aren’t on the same page. I know it’s silly.”

“No. Not at all.” Elsa tilted her head and grabbed Maren’s chin, gently turning Maren’s head so that their eyes met again. “It’s not silly if it upsets you,” Elsa pressed their lips together for a brief moment, just enough to make Maren blush, then pulled away. “Forgive me. I’ll do better.”

“Thank you,” Maren smiled, then yawned and stretched her arms up. “I should wash and get to bed. It’s been a long day.” Her eyes drifted down to Elsa’s lips. “I love you.” Maren leaned in and let Elsa close the distance between them. This time, the kiss lingered for longer, and Maren’s pulse quickened when she felt Elsa smiling against her lips.

Elsa was still smirking when she pulled away, that smug, cocky half-smile that made Maren’s knees weak, weaker still because Elsa knew the exact effect she had on people and made good use of it. “I love you too, Honeymaren Nattura.” Elsa grabbed her hands and kissed her knuckles. “And I’m… I suppose this isn’t how I wanted things to go, either. Even here, even after abdicating, the crown keeps stealing things from me.”

“What do you mean?” Maren pressed a kiss against Elsa’s forehead, then another on her cheeks and another on her lips.

Elsa hummed and leaned in, chasing after Maren’s touch. “I never wanted this. An engagement, marriage, all of those things have always been Anna’s dreams. I’m…” she shrugged. “Those things scare me. But, Maren…” Elsa grabbed her hand. “I’m disappointed in myself.”

Maren stared at their linked hands. “Why?”

“Because I was convinced that by not wanting those things, I’d condemned myself to a life of solitude. But then you came along, and you offered me a companionship I’ve always longed for, and what you asked for me in return was… never more than what I could give.” Elsa looked away. Maren thought she saw a hint of tears in her eyes. “The formalities of it suffocate me, but they’re important to the rest of the world, and I know how alienating that can be, but you… don’t mind.”

Maren placed a hand on the curve of her neck. “It’s not the traditions I’m in love with.”

Elsa smiled, eyes still downcast, and pressed their torsos together again. Maren let the contact linger and closed her eyes, feeling the temperature of Elsa’s skin gradually rise to match hers. She felt Elsa kiss her collarbones and opened her eyes again.

“The problem is that I’m still the princess. This is important to Arendelle. A wedding always brings joy to the people, even if the odds of my ever touching the throne again lessen with each new kid Anna has.” She clung to Maren, fingers digging into her skin. “And I’m still an older sister. I know Anna will postpone the actual wedding indefinitely because I’m uncomfortable. But this has always been so important to her, and I’ve been…” Elsa shrugged. “Absent and aloof and frankly not the best sibling. She deserves that joy. So do you.”

“Not at the cost of your well-being. No one will have fun if you’re miserable.” She could tell Elsa was growing agitated by the mere crackling of the fireplace. Maren held her closer, breathing in slowly and exhaling through her mouth. Elsa pressed an ear against her chest and listened to the air move in and out.

“No, I’ve made my peace with it,” Elsa said, barely above a whisper. “I want to do it, even. I might disappear halfway through,” She tilted her head and smiled at Maren, “But with you and Anna and Kristoff there, I’ll survive. I’ll have fun spooking the guests, too.”

“You do live your witch persona to the fullest extent,” Maren chastised, but with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll manage to make it just the right amount of unsettling and memorable. I’m looking forward to it.” Maren spoke even as her mind caught up with her and she realized, _ holy fuck, I’m getting married? _

“How can I forgive myself, though?” Elsa’s fingers drifted over the small of Maren’s back. “I _ know _ that resisting the unavoidable only ever results in having no control of the situation when it does happen. And yet I did it again. Maren, I should have asked you.” Elsa wiggled out of Maren’s grasp and turned around, giving Maren her back. “I should have… gathered the reindeers and stood on top of a tall rock. Should have done the right thing. That’s what you deserve, not this.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m a mess.”

“Nonsense,” Maren touched her shoulder, gently pushed it so Elsa would turn back to face her. “You know what? I think it’s too soon. You’ve barely just moved in. We’ll go to Arendelle together and tell Anna to put it off.” She kissed Elsa on the forehead. “If and when you want to actually do it, you can propose to me. And don’t worry about reindeer and rings. Just do it your way.”

Elsa nodded with a smile, then hid her face on Maren’s shoulder again. “You’re good, you know? Calm and patient and understanding and… I couldn’t think of a better person.” She raised her head and moved so her lips were close to Maren’s ears. “Such a good girl, this is why I keep giving you plentiful harvests and healthy reindeer.”

“_Excuse me?!” _ Maren hissed. “The nerve of you!”

Elsa laughed, and Maren, despite her indignance, found herself laughing too.

* * *

They went to Arendelle to formalize the decision to put their engagement on hold and to collect an assortment of weird gifts that Maren couldn’t quite tell the purpose of. They stayed to see the children and then partake on game night with Anna and Kristoff.

Or, well, Maren was playing games with the royal family, sitting on a fluffy rug and throwing cards on a short center table. Elsa, for whatever reason, didn’t join. The game was called Spardam, and though they were betting with chips, there was no real money involved.

Anna was winning. Anna was winning by a long shot. Anna was winning so much, Maren half suspected she was cheating, though she couldn’t say for sure. Maybe she was just that good. When they finished the round, Anna had a pile of chips so tall she could build a castle with it, which, of course, she did.

Maren had a grand total of five chips left. It was Kristoff’s turn to shuffle the deck, and Maren seized the moment to take a break. She turned around and looked behind her, where Elsa sat on a large one-person couch, curled up so her bare feet touched the seat. It was so big, she could almost lie down on it. “I think your sister is cheating.”

“Am not!” Anna protested. “The nerve of you. I should have you beheaded for this slander.”

“She’s not.” Elsa’s lips curled into a sly smile that crinkled the corner of her eyes. “And Arendelle does not, in fact, do death sentences.”

“See!” Anna crossed her arms. “I’m not even shuffling the cards. Kristoff is shuffling the cards. Do you think Kristoff even has the malice, the guile, the hand coordination to stack the deck?”

“I could if I wanted to,” Kristoff mumbled.

“Kristoff, sweetheart,” Anna turned to him. “Do not talk back to me.”

The deja-vu was so strong, Maren turned to Elsa with a quizzical look. Elsa merely shrugged. Maren blinked. It was mind-boggling how similar the sisters could be while seeming so different. She saw Kristoff’s slow, wide-eyed nod and wondered whether she was that whipped.

She was. She definitely was. But she had a semblance of pride to hold on to, and so when Elsa smirked again, she decided to rebel. Elsa’s eyes widened, realizing a second too late what was about to happen, but by the time she began to scramble away from the sofa, Maren had already gotten up and attacked her torso, fingers wiggling over her ribs.

Elsa burst out laughing. “Honeymaren you absolute fucking _ bastard _,” she hissed between giggles. Maren tickled her a little more. Elsa wrapped an arm around her neck, twisted her hips and flipped Maren over. She pinned Maren’s wrists above her head, her expression feral. “You’ll pay for this,” she whispered, then let Maren go and pushed her off the couch.

Maren felt her cheeks heat up. When she turned around, Anna was staring at them with an arched eyebrow.

“Shut up.” Elsa said in a dangerous tone.

“I didn’t say anything, sister dearest.” Anna licked her lips, smirking.

Elsa narrowed her eyes and slid down the couch so that she could sit on the rug behind Maren. She tapped her nails on the wooden table. “Next round. Go.”

Anna’s smirk turned into a grin. “Are you quite certain? It’s been a while. You’re rusty.”

“Um, girls –” Kristoff began, only to find himself on the receiving end of a pair of terrifying glares.

“Kristoff, _ deal _,” Elsa hissed.

“Okay,” he said with a small voice, placing the deck on the table and pulling a set of cards for each. Maren gave him a look of solidarity. He cleared his throat. “Um, Elsa, you don’t have any chips to bet with.”

“I’m playing with Maren.” Elsa said in a calm and collected manner, as though stating the obvious.

_ You are? _ She wanted to ask, but Elsa and Anna had returned to their staring contest, so she followed Kristoff’s example and nodded. “Absolutely. You can have all five of my chips. My chips are your chips.”

The cards were dealt, and Maren picked them up. Elsa wrapped an arm around Maren’s waist and rested her chin on Maren’s shoulder. She tapped three of the cards, and Maren placed them on the table, face down, then passed them to the left. The goal of the game was to score the least points, and it ended when one of the players scored a hundred.

Cards were exchanged, passed on and discarded. They played. Maren put down a two of hearts.

“You can’t play hearts,” Anna scowled.

“We only have hearts,” Elsa chirped back, smug.

“You’re breaking hearts on round three,” Anna slammed her palm on the table. “This is why mom didn’t fucking love you.”

Maren gaped, but Elsa’s expression remained perfectly impassive. “Mh-hm. She needed a daughter to love and another to take the crown, and she obviously decided to leave Arendelle to the smart one.”

Maren gave Kristoff a confused look. He shrugged and mouthed a _ ‘don’t worry _’. Cards were passed again. Elsa snatched them from Maren’s hands and held them herself.

“Funny you say that,” Anna hissed, fingers deftly moving to play. “Because turns out I’m queen, so I got the love _ and _ the crown.”

Kristoff quietly placed a five of spades on the table. Elsa hummed.

“The fact that you consider the crown a win only further proves that I’m the smart one,” Elsa played another card of hearts. It was counterintuitive – the more hearts she scored, the more points she made, and therefore the closest she was to losing. Maren chose not to question the strategy. “You’re in here doing paperwork all day, while I’m out there, in the forest, sunbathing and singing and fucking. Do you even fuck, Anna?”

“Do you think my children were born out of magic? Because that’s your thing, not mine.” Anna put down a card. “Do _ you _ even fuck, Elsa? I have concrete evidence that I do, but you, I don’t know.”

“I’m uncomfortable,” Kristoff protested.

“Look at me. Look at my erratic, aloof, chaotic behavior.” The cards passed through their hands faster. Kristoff struggled to keep up with the sisters' pace. “I’m an incorrigible asshole. Why oh why do you think Honeymaren tolerates that? There’s one logical explanation and it has to do with orgasms. Have you had one of those yet?”

“Now _ I’m _ uncomfortable,” Maren complained, feeling the tips of her ears heat up. Like Kristoff, she was thoroughly ignored.

“Why do you think I keep getting pregnant? It’s because I love that dick.”

“I’m leaving,” Kristoff stood. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving.”

“Kristoff, sit down.” Anna snarled. “The game needs three to be played.”

“Okay,” he whimpered, plopping back on the rug. He tapped his foot and played another card. Maren frowned, peeking at the sheet of paper they used to keep track of the scores. Elsa was leading with seventy-two, Kristoff with sixty-five and Anna with thirty. Maren considered, once again, reminding Elsa that the point was to score the least.

“The fact that Maren and I cannot accidentally get each other pregnant only means we get to do it more often and without worries,” Elsa shot back.

“Can we change the subject?” Maren cleared her throat and looked at Kristoff for support. “What about, um, reindeers. Let’s talk reindeers.”

“Reindeers sound nice!” He agreed, making another bad play. Maren started suspecting he was rushing to end the game and stop the sisters from going for one another’s throats. “Sven is doing great! His new fur coat is growing bright and shiny.”

“That’s fantastic. Velvet had a pair of babies! I can’t wait to see whether their antlers will grow as fuzzy as their mom’s.”

“Antler-growing is always exciting” Kristoff replied quickly, fast enough that Elsa and Anna didn’t have time to speak. “The guys who harvested ice with me used to place bets on how many antler branches the babies would have.”

Elsa slapped a card on the table so hard, Maren jumped. Then she pushed all five chips forward. “All in.”

Anna scowled and tapped her nails against the table. She narrowed her eyes and hesitated. “I’m cashing out. I’m taking my money and going home.”

“But we’re not playing for money,” Maren commented. “And you’re already home.”

“And you can’t cash out in the middle of a match,” Elsa added.

Anna pointed at Maren, then at Elsa. “The two of you fucking deserve each other.”

Elsa grinned, holding a single card. Her score was ninety-eight. Anna sat at eighty, and Kristoff at ninety-five. “Make your play, little sister.”

Anna scowled. She laid down her card, and Elsa’s lips twisted into a malicious smirk when she put down her own. “Shooting the moon. And since I can choose –“

“No. Fuck you.”

“ – since I can choose between losing twenty-six points or giving every other player twenty-six –“

“Fuck you!” Anna pulled her chips to her, hugging them.

“ – then I’m giving the two of you points, which means I win.” Elsa licked her lips and extended her hand. “Give me the chips.”

“No.”

“The chips, Anna. I won. Give them to me.” She wiggled her fingers. “Give me.”

“No!” Anna extended her shirt, pulled the chips on top of it, then folded it on itself to wrap them up. “I’m keeping them.”

“Anna,” Elsa said in a threateningly stern tone. “Give. Me. The chips.”

“Come and get them, you thieving cheating bastard.” Anna stood. Elsa narrowed her eyes, and Anna took a step back.

_ The chips aren’t even worth anything, _ Maren thought, and considering bringing that up, but it was too late now. Elsa vaulted over the table faster than Maren could blink, and Anna bolted across the room, chips dropping from her makeshift shirt pouch as she ran.

“Anna!” Elsa screeched, stumbling after her. “This is why mom never even bothered to educate you in matters of the state, you sore loser of a spare!”

“This is why dad locked you up, you greedy hoarder! You - you’re like some tiny ice...dragon!” Anna jumped over a couch. Chips flew all over the room. “Let me keep the chips!”

“I want my chips. I earned them fair and square!” Elsa circled around the sofa. She leaned right, and Anna leaned left. Elsa snarled. They ran in circles around the furniture. “Anna!”

“She’s not even picking up the chips,” Kristoff muttered, watching the two run. “They’re all on the floor at this point.”

“You clearly don’t have a sibling,” Maren snorted.

“What kind of elder sister you are, that you don’t let the little one win?”

“Little sist - You’re twenty-six years old!” Elsa abruptly jumped over the sofa and tackled Anna down. The two rolled on the ground, cursing. Anna extended her hand, holding a single red chip out of reach. Elsa tried to grab it. “Give it to me, you flagitious red-headed she-devil! Anna, you give me that chip or I’m going to cash it in so far up your arse that you’ll shit coins for a month!”

“You are nearly thirty, you hag!” Anna dodged Elsa’s attempts to recover the chip. “Let me keep it!”

They struggled some more, and Elsa let out a victorious cheer, jumping to her feet after managing to take it from Anna’s grip. “Ha! To the victor, the spoils!”

“Noooo!” Anna jumped after it, but Elsa was taller by a considerable amount and held it out of reach, cackling.

Maren shared a long, amused look with Kristoff, then cleared her throat. The sisters froze and turned around to them, both their faces sharing the exact same sheepish and startled expression.

“Um,” Elsa said, straightening out her clothes, still holding the chip between her fingers. She stared at Anna, then at Kristoff, before finally settling her sights on Maren and walking over. She crouched down so that their eyes were level and smiled. “Milady,” she said, then extended her the chip.

Maren grinned and took it, rubbing her thumb across the smooth surface. “You dork.”

“Disgusting, the two of you.” Anna grumbled, releasing her hair and then pulling it back into a ponytail.

Maren slid the chip into her pocket and then, without warning, pulled Elsa forward, breaking her balance and making her fall onto Maren’s lap. Elsa let out an _ oomph _ when they collided, then accommodated herself by resting her head on Maren’s chest.

When Maren looked up, she saw Anna stare at them, shake her head and smile. She sat down by Kristoff and started massaging his back. “Elsa told me you moved in together,” she said, working the knots in the muscles of his back. Every once in a while, Kristoff would let out a moan that was almost indecent. “It’s a big step. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

Maren nodded, running her fingers over Elsa’s hair. Elsa hummed when Maren gave her a scalp rub, not unlike a cat. Maren kissed the top of her head. “We’re adapting. She obsessively rearranges my furniture, but I’m getting used to it.”

“Sounds like her, alright,” Anna wrapped her arms around Kristoff’s neck. “How do you find my sister so far?”

“Unexpectedly cuddly.”

Elsa snorted. Maren rubbed her fingers against a particularly soft spot under her jaw, and Elsa grunted in satisfaction.

“Incredible.” Anna whistled, impressed. “You really did domesticate her.” Elsa raised her head to glare, but didn’t argue. Anna shook her head and clicked her tongue, then moved to lean against Kristoff’s shoulder. “Elsa.”

Elsa shifted on Maren’s lap so she could face her sister and nodded. “Mm?”

Anna took a deep breath. “I know you… needed time to figure yourself out. We both did. But it’s been a while now, and you visit so little, and I… we miss you. I’d like to have you back in my life, if you’re ready.”

Elsa smiled, her gaze soft. “Only if you quit being such a sore loser.”

“No promises.” Anna grinned, then turned to Maren. “You too, Maren. I’d like the kids to be educated in Northruldan culture. And to know their aunties better, of course. Come over more often. You’re family.”

Maren felt a joyous warmth that seemed to flow from her heart all the way to the tips of her fingers, and found herself smiling. “That can be arranged,” She nodded, extending her legs, Elsa still curled up against her. Her fingers traced lines between the moles on Elsa’s skin. “You could send them up, too. Spend a while in the forest. I know it’s hard for you two to make an appearance yourselves, but you’d be welcome if you did.”

“No, we should go,” Anna stared off into the distance, thoughtful. “We – I have a lot to learn, a whole other part of my identity to reclaim. I’ll make time. Maybe we can alternate, every other weekend. What do you think, dear?”

“I like family time,” Kristoff kissed Anna on the cheek. “Can we squeeze in some visits to the Valley, too? Grand Pabbie is always so excited to see the children.”

“I miss Grand Pabbie,” Elsa chirped.

Maren hadn’t really met Kristoff’s troll family, but the idea fascinated her. “I can do every other weekend. We get here fast when Nokk brings us, and it counts as a diplomatic duty anyway. Arendelle is our biggest trade partner.” She nodded at Kristoff. “And I’d love to visit the place where you grew up.”

“Then it’s settled,” Anna rubbed her hands together, almost mischievously. “Next game night, we’re playing Monarchy.”

“Oh no,” Kristoff whimpered. “Oh no, oh no. I’m out of this. Absolutely out. I want to be the bank. I’ll just hand out the tax payments while you two kill each other.”

“Monarchy?” Maren frowned, quizzical.

“It’s a fantastic board game where each player is the monarch of a nation, and you go around the board buying land, building structures on them and trying to force the other kingdoms into bankruptcy.” Elsa explained, grinning. “It gets really intense.”

“It destroys relationships,” Kristoff corrected. “Sometimes, it also destroys the furniture.”

Maren looked around at the mess the living room had become: overturned chairs, betting chips all over the floor, sofas out of place, glasses of wine scattered. There was something to be said about that – how methodical and organized Elsa was, and how chaotic she became when she had the smallest chance to unwind.

Maren stroked Elsa’s cheek, her heart aching with affection, then leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “It’ll be an interesting experience, for sure.”

Elsa looked at her then, stared silently for a long time, then turned to Anna, and then to Kristoff, and then closed her eyes. “I’m happy.”

The smile on both Anna and Kristoff’s faces was the most genuine and pure thing Maren could conceive. She knew it, because she shared it. “We’re happy too, Snowflake.”

Maren held Elsa close, and felt Elsa’s breathing against her skin, and let the peace wash over her soul.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So buttons what's the deal with the nudity?"  
I'm glad I asked myself that question, dear reader. So here's the thing: back when I was working obgyn I learned this very important concept: when a baby is born well, the first thing you do is put them on their mother's bare skin
> 
> this is so the baby's skin gets colonized by the mother's bacteria, but this - skin-to-skin contact - is vitally important in the child's emotional development. And throughout life, for whatever reason, this kind of touch and intimacy gets sexualized 
> 
> that's some bullshit. nonsexual skin-to-skin contact is very much healthy. cuddle your friends. cuddle your siblings. get naked with your partner in entirely non-sexual ways just to HOLD THEM and see how crazy soothing it is to share your very own special brand of staphilococcus aureus with someone you love
> 
> that's right my girl gets all my MRSAs and KPCs and ESBLs
> 
> "Fascinating! So buttons what's up with all those hostile things elsa and anna said to each other?"  
first of all if you never told your sibling "THIS IS WHY MOM LOVES ME MORE" then you're doing it wrong
> 
> but mostly, laughing about their shared childhood trauma is a way of coping. MAYBE NOT THE HEALTHIEST, but a way of coping anyway. y'know how if you say a word for long enough it eventually loses meaning? that's the idea. they mock those hurtful words so that the words lose power over them.
> 
> Extra questions about the chapter, courtesy of [Meadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamond_dusted/pseuds/diamond_dusted):
> 
> "Are they basically having a nudist dinner party?"  
yes (and they do that every day)
> 
> "Are anna and kristoff reproducing like rabbits?"  
yes (anna has always wanted a big family anyway)
> 
> "How many kids do they have at this point?"  
yes (three because anna breastfeeds and that acts as natural contraception to a certain extent. TO A CERTAIN EXTENT. DO NOT THINK THE BOOB WILL FULLY PROTECT YOU FROM PREGNANCY. USE CONDOMS.)
> 
> "so that board game in the end, is that MONOPOLY?!"  
yes (and it goes about as well as you'd imagine)
> 
> Meadows: "So this time I've password-protected the document and here's a riddle that will give you the word that opens -"  
Me, already running a brute-force crack script: "Uh huh"  
(the hilarious part was that in trying to encrypt it she broke it and had to do it all over)  
(my hogwarts house is indeed gryffindor) 
> 
> (SHOUT OUT TO [BARB](https://barbara-lazuli.tumblr.com/) WHO MADE ME WONDERFUL ART PINNED IN THE END END NOTES AND Y'ALL SHOULD GO CHECK OUT RIGHT NOW)


	14. Chapter 14

Maren sat by the river, fishing pole in hands, stared at the sky, and sighed. She did not like fishing, never did. But she’d been working so much lately, it was a relief to take some time to lie down, do nothing at all and be with her own thoughts. She stared at the fluffy clouds in the sky. She stared at the trees and how the wind shook the leaves. She stared –

_ Who the fuck am I kidding, _ she picked up a flat stone and flipped it between her fingers, _ I’m bored. _

“Rydeeeer – “ she dragged the word out, and he turned to her, arching his brows. “This is so _ boring _.”

Ryder rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’d figured age and maturity would bring you the patience and wisdom to learn the art of fishing.”

“It’s easy for you,” she complained, placing her fishing rod in a hole in the ground and lying down on the grass. “You’ve always been such an airhead, you can entertain yourself for hours with your own thoughts.”

“It’s called being a dreamer!” He poked her on the ribs, and Maren punched his shoulder. Ryder giggled. His hair had grown enough to reach his shoulder, and he’d tied it back in a poorly done ponytail that let wild streaks stick off in every direction. “But you wouldn’t know, miss all-business.”

“Airhead,” She repeated, toying with the stone.

“No, seriously, sis, you need a break. Really. Really really. Really really really. Really –”

“Your babbling is going to scare away the fish,” Maren grumbled, sitting up.

“What do _ you _ know about fishing?”

“That it’s boring!” She threw the stone, and it skipped twice on the water surface before sinking into the river. “Booooring. Boring!” She eyed Ryder from the corner of her vision, then tackled his torso, tickling him.

Ryder laughed, grabbing her by the shoulder and flipping her around. Maren wasn’t very ticklish, except for a particular spot on her neck which her brother was obviously aware of. They rolled in the grass, snarling and giggling. When they stopped, Maren caught her breath and smacked the back of his head.

“Ow!” He gave her his signature goofy grin. When they were smaller, Maren used to trap him on arm locks and choke holds and chase him around smacking him with sticks. It was partly for the sake of training – they had been at war, after all - but mostly for the sake of being a little mean. He’d grown into a mountain of a man, and Maren sometimes caught herself wondering if she could still best him in a fight. 

The problem being he’d let her win, the big oaf that he was. His hair had gone free, and Maren stood and walked behind him to braid it. “You need a haircut, you know.”

“No! This is where my power resides. You sound like mom.” He stretched his legs. Maren’s fingers twirled into his locks. “Mom and dad miss you, by the way. You hardly visit!”

Maren groaned. “I miss chasing the herd with you guys. I feel like I’m always stuck beneath a mountain of documents to read over and resources to keep track of and foreigners to meet –“ She booped her forehead against the top of Ryder’s head, then moved back to finish her braiding. “They should be retiring soon though, shouldn’t they? Even Yelana finally gave into her aching back and moved to the village.”

“I think they’re waiting for Hennet’s twins to come of age,” Ryder said. Maren let go of his hair and he took the braid between his fingers. “Mom’s been teaching Lamé her leatherworking and dad claims Mihka is fantastic at skinning and tanning. I think they’ll always be a little disappointed neither of us wanted to take over the family trade.”

“Eh,” Maren shrugged. That disappointment was perhaps the very reason Maren didn’t visit often. She loved her parents, but they were suffocating, and if they asked her about grandchildren one more time, she’d lose her mind. “Can’t you see my true vocation is to be a leader of men? A writer of paperwork?” She opened her arms for dramatic effect. Ryder laughed, and Maren snorted, too. “This burden was always on you, sibling.”

“I like fishing!” He stood and offered her a hand. Maren let him pull her up. “I get to daydream _ and _ be useful at the same time! Every time I try making something as simple as a pouch I nearly lose a finger!”

“Airhead,” She dusted the grass off her pants, then walked back to where they’d let the fishing rods. There was no sign of fish, but with how much noise they were making, it was no surprise.

She sat back down. The sun was warm on her back. Her brother let out a long, pleased sigh. “Did you know,” Ryder began, and Maren braced herself, “That crabs have teeth on their stomachs?”

_ What the fuck – _

“Ryder –“

“ – and that they rub them together to growl?”

There was a second of silence in which Maren digested that information, and then she burst out laughing. “How do you even _ know _ those things?”

“I am a knower of things,” he grinned, “And a fisher of fishes. And crustaceans. And a herder of reindeer.” His hair was too thick to be kept in a braid and was already coming loose again. “How are things going between you and your ice witch, anyway?”

“You mean Elsa Arendelle,” she snarked, “Sister of Anna Arendelle, the queen of our biggest, most important trade partner. Our military ally. The _ princess _of that place. Who’s incidentally the Fifth Spirit of legend. That one very powerful woman. That’s who you mean?”

“Your ice witch,” He repeated, then elbowed her on the ribs. “Are the rumors true? Has she been living with you?”

“Mmh.” Maren let her gaze get lost in the distance. She wanted to tell him all about the engagement, but she and Anna had managed to keep it under wraps in order to keep the pressure off Elsa, and Arendelle was far enough that the Northrulda hadn’t heard of it yet. And Maren _ could _ keep a secret. “She stays the night. I think sometimes she stays the day too, though I never catch her in the house before sunset.”

“You know, sis, not that I’d ever imply you don’t know what you’re doing,” He fiddled with his fishing rod. “But do you know what you’re doing?”

“Always, little brother.” Maren crossed her legs and stared at the river. “I know it’s unconventional. _ She _ is unconventional. I’d say that changes when you get to know her, but it doesn’t really. She’s odd like that, and then some.”

“Do you love her?” He turned to her. “Ha! Don’t answer. Your face says it all. Do you think she’s the one?”

Maren tipped her head, smiling. “She’s the one.”

“Oooh, you’re blushing!” He chuckled. “I… don’t know what I expected from you, really. Other than casual one night stands and competing with me to hook up with the women I wanted, you never really did relationships.”

“Competing? Ha!” Maren grinned. “If I were trying, you wouldn’t stand a chance, pretty boy.” She bumped their shoulders together. “No, I just did that so your shy ass couldn’t escape from asking those girls out. For motivation, you know. ‘Kiss her or I will.’ If I didn’t do that, you’d be single forever.”

Ryder laughed, but didn’t argue. They sat in silence for a while, hearing the birds chirp. He hummed. The fish still weren’t biting, but Maren was forced to agree he had a point – she desperately needed that break. The cool wind buffeted her face. She felt at home in nature in a way she missed.

“What’s her love like?”

It was such a Ryder question, Maren couldn’t help but smile. They were both sensitive people, but Maren kept a serious, professional façade that masked that, whereas Ryder stood out for how unashamedly soft he was. She considered the question.

“Haunting,” she said after a while. She curled her fingers on blades of grass. “She doesn’t say ‘I love you’ a lot, but she… has her way of showing it.” Maren ran through her memory for examples. “She reads over my paperwork and marks the shady things in red ink. She heats the water in the shower for me. She makes these –“Maren wiggled her fingers, “These little reindeer miniatures and hides them around the house for me to find.”

“Oh, she’s a keeper.”

“And when the table had one short leg, she fixed it.” Maren was on a roll then, without bothering to hide her excitement. “She knits, did you know? She _ knits _, Ryder, and she fixes my clothes when they tear or – or makes me hats.” She touched the hat on her head. “And she never tells me those things, she never gives the gifts to me personally. I’ll just open my drawer one day and find I have new socks. As if I were living with a really nice ghost.”

“I see what you mean.” Ryder nodded, hugging his knees. “Why do you think she does it?”

“Mmh.” Maren gave it some thought. “The house isn’t even that big, and yet she manages to make herself invisible. She vanishes into it, Ry, so much that sometimes I’ll be home for hours and she’ll just tap me on the shoulder and spook me out of my skin. I think the little things she leaves behind…” Maren licked her lips. “She’s used to hiding, but she wants to be seen.”

Ryder ran his fingers through his hair, completely ruining his braid. “Well, then. You should show her you see her.”

“Huh,” Maren blinked, her brain already bubbling with ideas. “Sometimes you give such good advice, I almost forget you’re that same stammering kid who couldn’t even invite a girl for dinner. Way to go, shy boy.”

“I did good, didn’t I?” He smiled. “I thought I’d never even kiss a girl and now here I am.” He opened his arms. “A dad! I can’t wait! I’ll finally have someone to properly teach how to fish!”

Maren laughed. “And I can’t wait to have someone to properly teach how to _ flirt. _” She punched his shoulder. “I’ll be the coolest auntie to ever – oh!” The fishing rod was suddenly yanked from its hole, and Maren jumped to her feet to catch it before it could be dragged into the water. “Finally! See? It was my hook they bit, smartass. My hook!”

“Yes, and if you hold it like that, it’ll be your fish escaping!” Ryder giggled, gripping at the rod.

The two put on a valiant effort, yet the fish escaped anyway.

* * *

Maren planned her ambush meticulously, like the true strategic mastermind she was. She’d snapped off her favorite teacup’s handle. It had been a gift from Elsa herself, and though it broke her heart to do it, she knew Elsa wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to fix it. Elsa was always gone in the mornings, and it was no different this time.

But when Maren left the house, she made her way around the back and hopped right back in through the window. Sure enough, after some time of hiding under the bed, she saw Elsa snoop in through the chimney no less, even though the front door was never locked, and Elsa had the key, and Maren had to resist the world to laugh and break her cover.

She watched Elsa wipe herself clean of soot with her hands _ and _ magic, then walk over to the sink and pick up the crystal teacup. Elsa traced the broken handle with her fingertips. Slowly, carefully, Maren rolled out of her hiding place and made her way to the kitchen. She hesitated on the few last steps, knowing how much Elsa hated to be surprised.

After a couple seconds of pause, she knocked on the wooden table. Elsa squeaked, jumping, nearly dropping the teacup. Maren gave her a smile and a little shrug, and Elsa put the teacup back on the desk. Maren noticed that at some point after she’d snuck from her hiding place, Elsa had fixed the handle.

“Hey, Snowflake.” She closed the distance between them and grabbed Elsa’s wrists. “Fancy seeing you here,” she met Elsa’s eyes. “At this time of the day, too. I was starting to think you were one of those animals who only come out at night. An owl or, mmm, a night-stalking panther.”

Elsa bowed her head, pink flushing her cheeks. “I, um, your teacup –“ Maren let her fingers drift from Elsa’s wrists to her palms. “ – I wanted to fix it.”

“I know,” Maren rubbed circles on Elsa’s skin. “You don’t have to scurry, you know. It’s your house, too.”

Elsa’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “It is?”

“Of course. You live here.” Maren rubbed her thumb on the back of Elsa’s hand. “Is this whole… sneaking around during the day habit something you’d like to talk about?”

“I…” Elsa hesitated. “I don’t know, actually. Sit down with me. Hold me. Then maybe I will.”

Maren nodded, and though she _ was _ the serious sibling, she let her guard down when the familiar warm affection swept over her, quirking her lips into a smile. She guided Elsa to the bed, delicately holding her hands. They sat side by side, shoulders touching, and Maren interlaced their fingers. It was a tricky thing, getting Elsa to feel safe, but Maren paid attention and knew her well. Slowly, almost reverently, she raised Elsa’s hand to her lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.

“Maren…” Elsa began, watching her through half lidded eyes. Maren turned her hand around and kissed the palm, then the wrist. Elsa’s fingers twitched, and Maren let their tips trace the shape of her lips. Elsa took a slow, deep breath, blushing all the way to her eartips. “You know me just right, don’t you?”

“You like contact,” Maren took Elsa’s hand to her cheek, then leaned into the touch. After years together, it still sent little jolts over her skin. “But you also like staying in control. It’s not enough that I touch you – I need to lure you into touching me.”

Elsa looked away, but her fingers were still on Maren’s face, running over her jawline. “That’s not such a difficult task, with that face,” Elsa’s thumb parted Maren’s lips open, and Maren nibbled on its tip. Elsa smiled, wrapped her arms around Maren’s neck and kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. Maren’s knees would have gone weak, hadn’t she been sitting. When Elsa pulled away, her expression was unreadable. “Love, would you…” She looked away, uncharacteristically shy. “Would you like to lead, this time?”

There was surely a reason behind that request, but she chose to let Elsa tell it of her own will. She tilted her head. “If you want me to. If you’re comfortable.” Elsa stared at her in silence for a long moment, then nodded. Maren shifted so she could sit on Elsa’s lap, idly toying with her hair before leaning in for a chaste kiss. 

When she pulled back, Elsa leaned forward for more, and Maren pressed their bodies closer together. “Why do you hide?”

“I don’t know.”

Maren kissed her again, longer this time, parting Elsa’s lips with her tongue. When she felt Elsa’s sharp inhale, she pulled back, staring at her flushed skin. “What are you hiding from?”

“Myself, I think.”

_ That’s why you’re giving me control _ , Maren realized. _ Because you’ve finally met something within yourself which is too hard to face, and you want me to force you to look. _

Maren took a moment to process that information - how frail Elsa must feel, the trust this situation entailed. Gently, she pressed their torsos together, pushing Elsa down with her weight. When Elsa’s expression turned to alarm, Maren gave her a moment to get comfortable. She stared deep into Elsa’s eyes, drunk in the shape of her, then resumed her slow, tentative kisses. 

She’d long learned that Elsa’s moments of physical and emotional vulnerability were strongly tied to one another, so Maren recognized the moment as an opening to dig deeper. Her next question was seemingly unrelated, but she had a feeling it was the right one. “Why did you have a casket for yourself, back in your ice castle?”

Elsa flinched. Maren pulled away for a second, paying close attention to her reactions, making sure not to push past any boundaries Elsa didn’t want crossed. The question was predictably anguishing, Maren could tell from the tension on Elsa’s shoulders, and she leaned forward to kiss them, then moved her lips to the crook of Elsa’s neck.

Her hands were not idle, one holding Elsa’s hip while the other slowly slid up Elsa’s leg, the ice dress dissolving into liquid as she touched it. Elsa let out a little whimper when Maren bit into her skin, and that was when Maren paused again and gave her time to breathe. 

“Need more?” Maren leaned in and rubbed their noses together affectionately. 

“No, I’m okay,” Elsa smiled. “Thank you for… making this easier to talk about.” Her fingers toyed with the fringes of Maren’s clothes. “I suppose you could say I wanted to die, back then, but that’s not quite right. I just wanted the pain to end.” Elsa said, finally, “Whatever it took, I wanted it to stop.”

“Are you still hurting?”

“Sometimes.” She tangled her fingers on Maren’s hair, absently undoing her braids. “It’s different. Back then I felt as if…” Elsa finished with the braid and moved to fiddle with the fluffy collar of Maren’s shirt.

She was a fidget with anxious fingers, and Maren took them between hers again, brought them to her lips and kissed them one by one. Elsa watched her. She was tearing up, and she turned her face away, and Maren made a point of respecting that boundary even though it made her heart ache.

“I couldn’t… remember a time before things started hurting,” Elsa’s tone was barely above a whisper. “And I couldn’t imagine a future where it wouldn’t. And I was scared I’d reach the age of eighty and look back at life and think, ‘this was all miserable and I wish I’d had the courage to stop it for good.”

“Do you still want to end things that way?” Maren tucked Elsa’s hair behind her ear. 

“It’s not that simple,” Elsa sighed, and Maren kissed the tears from the corner of her eyes. Elsa leaned into her touch. “When you raise your eyes to the sky at night and see the stars, they look like an assortment of bright dots until someone shows you a constellation. And then, once you see it, once you link them that way, you can never forget it.”

“Mmh.” Maren caressed her cheeks, trying to understand the magnitude of those words.

“I don’t want it, no,” Elsa completed, “But I know that I could, and I can never forget it. When things hurt, a part of me will always remind me that taking my own life is a way out. But –“ She made eye contact and touched Maren’s face, “It’s not the only way out. I know it will pass, and it’ll get better, and I have things I look forward to. I think I’ll be okay, but…”

“But?” Maren pressed when she didn’t continue. Elsa’s face had returned to stone-cold neutrality, and Maren reminded herself to grow aware of her surroundings for hints of feeling, but there was no temperature drop or howling wind or crackling flames this time.

She pressed their lips together and slid her leg between Elsa’s, holding her face in place with both her hands. Maren synchronized her kissing with her hip movements, feeling warmth pool in her abdomen every time Elsa let out a quiet, pleased moan. Maren felt Elsa’s fingers press on her back and sat up, yanking her shirt off and tossing it on the floor. 

When she leaned down again, the bare skin of her stomach touched Elsa’s ice dress, sending goosebumps up her arms. She felt the cool non-fabric disappear under her and considered kicking off her own pants, but decided against it, instead moving her lips to Elsa’s breast. Elsa tangled her fingers on Maren’s hair and gasped. 

It took all of Maren’s self control to pull back, because they still had a talk to finish and she knew it was an important one. When she did, Elsa sighed in a frustrated manner and pushed herself up on her elbows. “This could be considered torture.”

“It seems the only way to get you to open up is to dangle your sexual satisfaction over you like a carrot on a stick,” Maren shrugged, half-smiling. “So, finish your thoughts and I can finish... you.”

Elsa groaned, then let herself fall back on the mattress. “It’s just really scary, Maren.” She closed her eyes and was silent for a long time. “It used to make sense, back then. Things were bad and I felt bad. But when it happens now, it’s random. Sometimes things are fine but I’m...not.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m afraid. I’m afraid one morning I’ll wake up and everything will be just as wonderful as the day before, but I’ll feel as trapped as I once did. Choking.” When she opened her eyes again, they were red from held tears. “You would know if it happened. And it would break your heart. And you don’t –“ she looked away. “You don’t deserve that.”

“I don’t appreciate having the choice taken from me,” Maren frowned. “Whether I take that risk or not should, on the very least, be a shared decision.”

“I just don’t want you to feel the way I do.” Elsa made brief eye contact. Maren’s hand sought hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “As if I’m blindfolded and falling, waiting for the moment I’ll hit the ground and crush every bone. I can’t tell when, but I know it’s coming, and every passing second adds to the dread because I know the longer it takes, the more it’ll hurt.”

Maren felt the pinprick of anguish and once again took Elsa’s hand to her lips, kissing her palm and wrist. “Is that why you don’t stay in the morning?”

“Mornings are… difficult.” Elsa’s free hand bunched the sheets. “Nights were always mine. When no one else was awake and my time belonged to me. I could do what I wanted – read my books, roam the halls, play with magic.” Elsa bit her bottom lip in thought. “But when mornings came, I –“ she paused. “My parents, the kingdom, paperwork, responsibilities, my _ parents _, I just –“ She shook her head. “That’s why I always take so long to sleep. Because when I woke, my freedom was gone, and all I had were demands.”

Maren nodded, then laid her head on Elsa’s chest, hearing the steady thumping of her heartbeat. Elsa’s nervous fingers found Maren’s face again, and Maren kissed them when they came within reach. “When was the last time you had a… a crisis like that?”

“Not for a while. Months, maybe.” Elsa’s hand moved to Maren’s hat, picking it up and fiddling with it. “I’ve been getting better. They take longer to come now, last less when they do happen. I’ve… been having long stretches of time where I’m genuinely happy.” She placed the hat back on Maren’s head. “But they always do return. I can’t ever outrun those demons. And I think I… maybe that has been keeping me from living.”

“I grew up in a war, you know.” Maren crossed her arms over Elsa’s chest and rested her chin on top of them. “I startle at little noises, just like you. And I wake up at night with my heart racing. And I remember that this – being alert all the time – it took a toll on me. It was awful back then. It’s still bad now, when it’s just a scar.” She let Elsa rub the top of her head and hummed. “I’m saying this because I think you’re right. Living in the expectation of pain is exhausting, Elsa. It’s perhaps worse than the pain itself – how the hurting expands beyond that single moment, takes control of your life, robs you of everything else.”

“It’s stupid.” Elsa grumbled. “I overcame everything I was scared of, but can’t get over the fear of fear. A self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Maren took a moment to think. She’d grown used to the cool of Elsa’s touch, but her body still shivered when Elsa snuck a hand to her back and traced the line of her spine. She told herself to focus. “You… don’t have to be afraid, though, do you?”

Elsa narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve been through hell. If you survived past that, then anything else should be…easier?” Maren absently bent her head and kissed Elsa’s collarbones. “Don’t think about it. Don’t give it a second more than it deserves. When it hits you, it hits you, and being caught by surprise by pain is awful, but it’s…” she trailed off. “Sometimes you have to be like a wolf.”

“You have so many fucking animal metaphors.”

“I’m a forest kid!” Maren laughed. Elsa smiled with her, and warmth blossomed on Maren’s chest._ I love this woman so much, _ she thought, and didn’t resist the urge to steal a quick peck on the lips before explaining herself. “Wolves are really resilient,” she explained. “They walk long distances, and they chase their prey for so long, it dies from exhaustion. And they stick together and care for their families and endure the longest winters.”

Elsa watched her with curious eyes. “And I’m somehow like that?”

“When things were harsh and cold, you endured.” Maren nodded. “But now…” She toyed with stray locks of Elsa’s hair. “Now the weather is warm, and you’ve made your den, but the winter coat that once protected you needs to be shed, lest you overheat.”

“You’re so good at this.”

Elsa’s open fascination was heartwarming. Maren grinned. “There’s more. A wolf knows there are bigger things out there, like bears and mountain lions. But they stand their ground and they are not afraid, because they’ve grown tough and have sharp teeth, and they’re never alone.”

“There’s a balance, is that what you mean?” Elsa tilted her head. “A time for resilience. For moving. For withstanding. For surviving. And a time for standing my ground. Either that, or you want me to get a spring haircut.”

“I love combing your hair, but it _ does _ get an awful lot of brambles,” Maren ran her hands through Elsa’s hair. The locks flowed between her fingers like liquid. “A time for standing your ground _ together. _ You have me. You have your sister, her husband and their million children. Lots of people who care. We’ll support you. Pick you up when you fall.”

“That’s the problem,” Elsa licked her lips. “When I was all by myself, I had nothing to risk. But now I have… things I couldn’t bear losing.”

“Gods, but you are a stubborn, frustrating _ idiot,” _Maren snarled. “Have a little faith, you condescending prick,” Maren grabbed Elsa’s face and kissed her before she could protest, this time a bit rougher with her teeth. “What will it take for you to rely on me a little?!”

“I don’t –“ Elsa’s eyes widened, her lips curling into a surprised smile. “I don’t think I actually know how?”

“Let me _ help _ ,” Maren hissed. “When you’re sad, let me hold you. Let me bring you flowers. Let me distract you when you overthink. Let me –“ She grabbed Elsa’s hands and kissed each palm, “Let me soothe your fears. Don’t run. Don’t hide.” She leaned her cheek against Elsa’s hand. “Let me see you being a nerd. Turn the backyard into a gigantic cock-shaped ice sculpture! Fill the house with your – your weird books about triangles! You’re so fucking _ odd _ and I _ love _ it and it’s an absolute crime that you do it in the woods where no one can see you.”

Elsa’s cheeks flushed, and she blinked. “I’m not sure whether I should be thankful or offended. Maybe I should have you beheaded for this. When in doubt, beheading is a good option.”

“See!” Maren grinned. “I love your – your awkward deadpan dark humor. I love that you fix my teacups! I love that you move my furniture around even though it means I keep hitting my pinky on things. Heck, by all means, bring your own furniture!” She poked a finger against Elsa’s chest, hard enough to be uncomfortable. “You belong here. With me. So stay_ . _ Body, mind and soul. And if bad times come, we’ll weather them together.”

Maren expected some protest or a snarky reply, but Elsa merely stared at her for a long time before speaking up again. “Okay. I -” She began fiddling with her fingers again, then stared at them and stopped. 

Maren covered Elsa’s hands with hers. “Yes, love?”

“I’m sorry for this. All this.” Elsa eyed her own hands. “Something inside me is broken, and as much as I’ve tried, I can’t seem to fix it. Not permanently, at least. Sometimes it works really smoothly for a while, and I think it’ll finally get better… and then whatever it is, it becomes broken again.”

“Not broken,” Maren corrected. “Misplaced. Sometimes, something inside you gets misplaced, as if - as if you kept losing your keys, even though you make a point of always leaving them at the same place.” Maren took Elsa’s hands between her own. “And when that happens, I’ll be here for you to let you borrow my keys or help you find yours.” 

“Hey, it wasn’t an animal metaphor this time,” Elsa teased, and Maren grinned. “Thank you. I.. I know that I’ll never quite be rid of this - this sickness of the soul, just like my mother. I think I’ve known that for a long time.” Elsa pressed their foreheads together. “But I can handle it. I can live with it, not for it. I can be happy when I’m free of it, and withstand it when it comes.” 

“You’re strong,” Maren agreed. “And we’re here for you. If bad times come, remember they’ll pass. And while they don’t, I’ll do my best to make you feel better.”

“Maren,” Elsa whispered, and it sent shivers down Maren’s spine, “I think this might be the safest I’ve ever felt.” 

“I told you, didn’t I? I told you that I’d make you feel at home. That I’d make you feel loved. I told you! Oh, and one more thing,” Maren leaned down to kiss her again, taking her time, appreciating the familiar way she smelled and tasted. Elsa kissed back with eagerness. Maren’s self-control was at its limit. “One more thing, before I can finally focus on pleasing you.”

“Yes?”

Maren pulled back to look her in the eyes, and she could suddenly feel herself tearing up, caught by surprise by a vulnerability so great, it made her feel as if her skin was not only bare but also raw. “Give me a chance to make your mornings better,” she whispered, and Elsa’s expression softened, and Maren pressed their foreheads together. “Please. I love you so much. Let me try.”

“You’re doing a good job, so far,” Elsa smiled. “Keep going. Maybe try losing the pants.”

“Nuh-uh,” Maren touched her index finger on Elsa’s lips. “I’m leading. You lie down there and behave.”

“I’m just saying –“

“Elsa, for the love of all that is holy, I know how to fuck.” Maren sat up, then kicked off her shoes. “Now hush and let me focus on doing you proper, because if you keep trying to boss me around, I swear I’ll build you up and then leave you in need.”

When Elsa burst into giggles, Maren could only silence her with a passionate kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SLEEPY AND I HAVE WORK TOMORROW HAPPY VALENTINES PUTAS
> 
> have this lovely essay on the struggles of living with a chronic ilness
> 
> this story has 2 more chapters before the grand finale so i hope you guys enjoy this


	15. Chapter 15

It was little past sunrise when Maren stirred from her sleep, her early-rising habits kicking in. She’d been trying to settle for a more reasonable time to rise – the village had no tasks that demanded her attention that early – but her treacherous body still kicked into gear as soon as the very first birds started chirping.

Still, she didn’t mind rising early – particularly when she woke up to Elsa lying quietly on her chest, her skin cool against Maren’s, fingers curled on Maren’s shoulder. Elsa was taller, but she had a habit of curling up in a way that made her so small, Maren worried about the health of her spine. It would have made for good spooning, except Elsa never went to sleep without facing her, and so they always ended up in a tangle which, most of the time, had Maren spitting mouthfuls of blonde hair.

Elsa snored, too, and she had cold feet she kept pressing against Maren like the absolute bastard she was. Maren took a hand to Elsa’s cheek, tracing the soft skin, and smiled when Elsa leaned closer. Even asleep, the way Elsa reacted to her touch was almost magnetic, and this, more than anything else, gave her a sense of love and intimacy so great it made her heart ache.

She could have laid there all day, drifting in and out of sleep until Elsa decided it was time to rise, but it was the weekend and though Anna had sent word ahead that she wouldn’t be able to make it, she _did_ say she would send her children. Maren figured that meant they’d be housing Agnarr and Joan, since the other two were still too young to go anywhere without their mom.

They’d have to expand the cabin, eventually, since Anna didn’t seem particularly inclined to stop her baby making, and Ryder’s son was bound to join them for sleepovers eventually. Though she liked to joke about it, the growing family made Maren immensely happy.

She stretched an arm out, carefully quiet. Like everything about Elsa, even the act of waking her up felt like a delicately learned art. Elsa startled easy, and Maren was too familiar with how unpleasant it was to be woken up with a scare. She pulled Elsa closer and started humming.

Her choice of song varied from lullabies to folk songs to tunes she’d learned from the sisters, but it was always the same song she’d hummed the night before, to make for a smooth transition from sleep to wakefulness and back. When Elsa stirred, she leaned in and kissed her forehead.

“Mmh.” Elsa hid her face on the crook of Maren’s neck. “Another five minutes, please.”

Maren snorted, then ruffled her hair. “You know, you’d feel better rested if you woke up at once instead of breaking the process into a million tiny naps.”

“That sounds fake,” Elsa grumbled, rolling off her. Maren stretched and sat up. Elsa buried her face on the pillow. “Five more minutes.”

Maren snuck out from beneath the blankets and grabbed her shirt and pants. “At least put something on before the kids arrive.”

Elsa raised a single hand from the mountain of blankets and pillows and clicked her fingers. A split second later, magical ice wrapped itself around her arm and took the shape of a simple gown. “Maren,” she mumbled, dropping her hand back to the sheets.

“Yes, love?”

“Do you know what my magical dresses and all shovels have in common?”

And there it was. An unexpected, inexplicable side effect of Anna’s children visiting was that Elsa was seemingly possessed by a demon of puns and bad jokes. Mare braced herself for the punchline. “No.”

“They’re both groundbreaking inventions.”

“Elsa I swear to the gods –“

Elsa buried her face on the pillow, giggling, and Maren rolled her eyes.

By the time she heard the knock on the door, she’d already fetched coffee and bread, and _way_ more than five minutes had passed. Elsa, predictably, was still in bed. Maren filled a pair of mugs before walking to welcome their visitors. When she opened the door, she was immediately met by squeals.

“Auntie!!!” The children bellowed in unison, and then Joan was hugging her legs, almost knocking her down. Agnarr approached, much quieter, and wrapped his arms around her waist. He was unusually tall for a seven-year-old, though looking at his parents, it made sense.

Maren opened the door wider to let them in. “Hi, darlings,” She crouched and kissed each one on the cheek. Agnarr smiled, but Joan tackled her, hugged her neck and retributed with several sloppy cheek kisses. Maren couldn’t stop herself from giggling. “All right, all right.”

“Auntie,” Agnarr said when Maren finally managed to stand, straightening her clothes. “Last time we visited you said you were going to teach me how to do inventory for summer. Would you be available for that today?”

Maren had worried, at first, that the boy’s deep interest in logistics stemmed from familial pressure, and even considered bringing it up with Anna, but Elsa had assured her that Agnarr was just _really_ into numbers. And while Maren didn’t quite get the appeal, it wasn’t too hard to accept, considering how bizarrely fascinated Elsa was by mathematics and engineering.

“Of course. It’s still early spring so mostly we keep track of the seeds –“

“Auntie!” Joan interrupted, hopping from one foot to the other. If Agnarr was the spitting image of what Maren imagined little Elsa had been, Joan was much closer to her mother, particularly when it came down to the raw energy she exuded. “Auntie, I wanna go into the forest and learn the names of the birds, can we go see the birds?” She opened her arms and flapped them. “Ca-caw!! Birds!!”

“Sure –“

“Will you teach me to do that thing you do with your hands?” she interlaced her fingers and blew on them. “Doot doot?”

“The hand flute, yes, I can –“

“Auntie, where’s auntie Elsa?” Joan peeked behind her. “Auntie Elsa, are you naked? Mama said I have to ask that before walking into people’s rooms.”

Maren turned around. From the bed, Elsa raised her head like a reindeer startled from grazing, frowning, still half asleep, her hair messy. “Um –“

“Not naked! Auntie!” Joan broke into a run.

Agnarr shot Maren an apologetic look and she smiled, tapping him on the shoulder. “Go.”

He grinned wide and raced to catch up with his sister. They reached the bed together and jumped on the mattress, then on Elsa, who went down with an _oomph_. Maren closed the door and walked back to the table.

“Auntie, yesterday I was playing with Olaf and –“

“Auntie, mama said you could demonstrate why the hypothenuse squared equals the sum of the squared cathetus, but with ice! Can you demonstrate that with ice –“

“Can you make a big ice castle again –“

“Auntie is it true that you threatened the Duke of Weselton with magic? Can you teach me to threaten him without magic? Can you teach me magic?”

“Auntie –“

Elsa sat up again, Joan still clinging to her neck, Agnarr lying on her lap, gave Maren a wide-eyed look of despair and mouthed out ‘_help’_. Maren burst out laughing, but took mercy on her. “Children,” she called, and the two turned to her. “What did I tell you two about your Auntie Elsa?”

“That her brain only works after a cup of coffee,” the two recited.

Agnarr got up and jumped off the bed, then walked to Maren. “Can I bring auntie the coffee? Mama says I’m old enough to carry glass cups now. Joan still uses metal ones!”

Joan scowled and stuck out her tongue. “Metal ones are nicer because they don’t break!”

“But the aunties only use crystal,” Agnarr retorted, sticking his tongue back. It was true, mostly because Elsa enjoyed using the dishware as a creative outlet. “I think auntie Elsa likes making glasses.”

“I do,” Elsa agreed from the bed. “You saw right through me, kiddo. Get it? Glass? See-through?”

The children giggled. Maren groaned and handed him the mug. “There you go. Careful with it.” She watched him go, then placed the fruity bread on a tray and followed him.

When she sat down in the bed, Elsa kissed her on the lips before taking the food. “Thank you, Honey.” She took the mug from Agnarr and the liquid inside fizzled, then stopped steaming. “And thank you, nephew.” She took a sip of the coffee. “Now where are we taking you two gnomes today?”

Joan scrunched her face. “Gnomes are ugly.”

“Beauty is a perceived trait,” Elsa chided. “Maybe the gnomes think _you_ are ugly. And in any case, beauty isn’t as important as being a good person.”

“But gnomes are mean,” Agnarr argued, watching Elsa with rapt attention.

“Only when you invade their spaces,” Maren hugged him from behind, pulling him close. “No one likes strangers walking into their houses, mmm?” She kissed the top of his head. “And everything has its function. You may think a frog is ugly, but without them, nothing would stop the flies from multiplying and bringing us disease. That’s why you must always respect every living thing, even when you don’t understand them.”

“Even the gnomes?” Joan asked, and Maren extended her legs and pulled Joan to her lap. “I want a kissy, too.”

“Even the gnomes,” She nodded, then kissed her on the exact same spot she’d kissed her brother. “Besides, they’re not so bad when you get to know them. They have mean teeth, but they’re so tiny, it almost makes them cute.”

“And that’s a little gnome fact.” Elsa grinned, and Maren briefly entertained the possibility of murder. The children snickered. Elsa watched her with narrowed eyes and a sly smile. “Your auntie is very wise, children.”

“Mama says auntie Maren has the only brain between the two of you,” Joan chirped, and it was Maren’s turn to laugh while Elsa scowled.

“Your mama and I will have a talk about this,” Elsa said, finishing her drink, then reached for the bread.

Agnarr and Joan chased one another around the bed while Elsa ate, the glass rattling dangerously on the tray. Maren considered warning the children, telling them to quiet down, but decided against it. Maren had a certain hesitation when dealing with Anna’s kids, something which derived from a fundamental clash of culture.

She and Ryder had always been energetic, yes, but they had also been raised in a forest full of trees to climb, rivers to swim in and small animals to chase. She was educated in the very simple directive that the outside was for play, while indoors spaces were for staying still. It made sense, considering the goahtis they slept in were made to be compact, and even their cabins were modest in space.

But Anna’s children had grown up in a castle with large rooms and wide corridors, and so they did not make the distinction between spaces they could play in and spaces which were too small, which resulted in the anguishing affair of them running around in places where that could be destructive.

They were well educated children, though, disciplined enough that Maren knew if she told them to sit still, she had no doubt they would. Yet she was one for practical learning, so she let them run over the mattress, rolling back and forth, giggling. She crossed her arms. Elsa looked at the pair and arched an eyebrow at Maren, but didn’t comment.

The children jumped, and jumped, and jumped – until it finally happened. In the midst of their scrambling, Agnarr’s foot caught the delicate crystal cup and kicked it to the floor. The glass hit the ground with a loud crash and shattered in half. The two immediately froze in place.

“Oh,” He said, his face scrunching up into a pout. “I’m sorry, aunties, I didn’t mean to –“ he cut himself short. “Please don’t be mad.”

“We’re not mad,” Maren shook her head. “But you two live in a very big castle with a lot of space,” She stood and picked the glass up, careful not to hurt her fingers on the slivers. “And not all places are like that, so you need to pay attention, because in tight spaces, you can hit things by accident and break them.”

He nodded. Maren kissed his forehead. “Okay. Sorry again.”

“Wait.” Elsa placed the tray down, then moved to him. “Agnarr,” Her hands held his face, cupping his cheeks gently. “How are you feeling?”

“I –“ He frowned and Maren saw his eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. Mama just let me use glass cups and I -” he sniffled, then hid his face behind his hands.

“Look at me, dear.” Elsa grabbed at his wrists and gently pulled, uncovering his face. Her expression was serious, focused, the same hawk-eyes that first enraptured Maren. “When you grow up, Agnarr, you won’t always be able to cry. Do you know why that is?”

“Because I’m going to be king?” He dropped his hands, and Elsa’s thumb rubbed circles on his palms.

“Yes and no. Sometimes grownups just have to… conceal their feelings. And leaders more than most, because the people around us need us to be confident for them, even when that’s not how we really feel.” Elsa closed her fingers around his tiny hands and squeezed. “I have something very important to teach you about concealing. And I want you to pay attention, because I want you to remember my words, even if you don’t understand them yet. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, wide-eyed.

“There’s two things you need to know about concealing. The first one is that sometimes you’ll have bad feelings, and you’ll think that maybe if you hide them deep enough, you can even hide them from yourself.” Elsa’s tone was so somber, even Joan remained still. “But you can’t. A concealed feeling always, _always_ comes back. Can you say that back to me?”

“A concealed feeling always comes back,” he said, and Elsa squeezed his hands again.

Elsa paused then, took a deep, shaky breath and stared out of the window. Maren followed her gaze and saw flurries begin to form outside. Elsa let go of Agnarr’s hands and Maren saw her fingertips tremble. Maren walked back to the bed, climbed the mattress and wrapped her arms around Elsa’s shoulders. Elsa tensed, then exhaled, leaning back against her.

“Auntie? What’s the other thing?”

Maren slid her hands down Elsa’s arms, fingers drifting over cold skin. “It’s okay, Snowflake,” she whispered close to Elsa’s ear, quiet enough that not even the children’s attentive ears would pick it up. “You’re okay now.”

Elsa covered Maren’s hand with her own, then took a deep breath and turned back to Agnarr. “The second thing is that all things concealed must come out, else they’ll just grow big and twisted until they turn into monsters. And once they do, they’ll whisper in your head, trying to convince you that the monster is you.”

_Oh, love,_ Maren pressed a kiss against the bare skin of her shoulder. She didn’t speak. She let Elsa take her time, her heart aching.

“You have to let it out, Agnarr, you _have_ to. And if you try to run from something unavoidable, you’ll just have no control over it when it happens anyway. So don’t wait too long.” Her hands found Agnarr’s again. “Find people who care for you. People you can trust. Maybe it’ll be your parents or your siblings. Maybe it’ll be people you don’t know yet. But you’ll know, in your heart, when you are loved. You’ll know when someone is safe.”

Elsa moved her fingers to his chest, still holding his hand. “Okay. And then?”

“And then you stop.” Elsa smiled. “You stop concealing. You let them see you, all of you, for who you are. It might seem a little scary, and it is, but it’s worth it, and it’s better than the alternative. So that’s the second lesson. Find the people who feel like home, and show yourself to them.”

“Find the people who feel like home and show myself to them,” He repeated without being prompted.

Elsa’s smile widened, and Maren felt tension roll off her shoulders. “But all that is for when you’re older. When you’re little, you don’t have to conceal anything. Come here,” she pulled him into a hug, then turned to Joan, “You, too. Come here.” Joan joined the cuddling, and Elsa brought the two closer. “You’re good kids, both of you. I love you. Now why don’t you go put on some warm leather clothing so we can go out? You can draw me a castle, and I’ll make it real.”

“Can we make blueprints with real mathematics?” Agnarr asked, already vibrating.

“Yes, and I’ll help you with the numbers.”

“Yay!” He turned around, already scrambling off the bed. “Come on, Joan. We need to find Kai with our luggage.”

“Can we meet your horse on the way, Auntie?” Joan said, following her brother.

“We can, but only if Nokk wants to come.”

“I hope he does!”

Maren could tell they wanted to run by the long quick steps they took, but Agnarr held Joan back with his arm, then took her hand. The two walked through the door together and bolted outside, already calling for Kai. Maren watched them go with a smile, then pulled Elsa down the mattress and kissed her, slowly, taking her time to appreciate the way it made her heart race.

“You did good,” she whispered, pulling away for a second. “You taught him right. I’m proud of you.”

“Hm.” Elsa propped herself up on her elbow, a lazy grin touching her lips. “One does what one must.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I hate talking about feelings,” Elsa licked her lips. “I only said that as a preventive measure. Have these talks now, so future Elsa doesn’t have to talk to him about much messier, much worse feelings. You know I’m a forward thinker. A planner. One who plays the long game –”

“Uh-huh,” Maren grinned.

“I mean it!” She slapped Maren’s shoulder, and Maren giggled. “That whole talk took ten minutes and he did not talk back. Imagine having to do that with an emotionally constipated _teen –“_

“Why are you like this,” Maren complained, though her tone had no real bite. “You do one wholesome thing and I try to give you some positive reinforcement but you just have to be a jerk about it.”

“I have a reputation to keep!” Elsa laughed, rolling on top of her. She kissed Maren briefly but with a smile. “I’m the Snow Queen, not the queen of warm and mushy feelings.” She pressed their foreheads together and kissed Maren again, slower this time. “Those are reserved for a select few.”

“Then it’s an honor.”

“I never said you were among them.”

“There it is! Again!” Maren wrapped her arms around Elsa’s waist. “Do you _have_ to be a jerk?” She propped herself up, just enough to steal a kiss. “Do you really, really have to? Is this a witch thing?” She brushed her nose against Elsa’s cheek. “Do you gain some spiritual power from being a complete tool?”

“No, I just like it,” Elsa grinned. She held Maren’s face and turned it, forcing their eyes to meet. Maren took a second to admire the cold blue of her irises. “You get all worked up. It’s cute.”

Maren arched an eyebrow. “Cute?”

“And sexy.” Elsa pushed Maren down with her weight, their faces close, and Maren felt the weight of Elsa’s piercing attention as her eyes wandered through Maren’s face and stopped at her lips. “The indignancy! The outrage! Such open displays of emo-oh-oh-tion,” she dragged the word out, mockingly, and Maren had an urge to smack her, “Very alluring.”

“Why do I even like you?” Maren muttered.

“I ask myself that every day,” Elsa replied, dipping in for another kiss. This time Maren bit her, and Elsa laughed. “Maybe I cast a spell on you. Or maybe I’m just that… hmm. Good.”

“Good-looking?”

“Good in bed, but that too.”

“You’re insufferable.” Maren let her hands drift to Elsa’s hips, and Elsa hummed in response.

“You love me.”

“That I do.” Maren smiled, and Elsa smiled back. She raised her hand to Elsa’s cheek, brushed her fingertips against flushed skin, whimpering when their lips met again and –

“Aunties, we’re back – oh, gross! They’re kissing!”

Elsa pulled back, groaned, and buried her face on the sheets next to Maren’s neck.

“Go talk numbers to them now, just how you like it, you little shit,” Maren whispered.

Elsa laughed, her whole body shaking on top of Maren’s. “We’ll continue this when they take a nap.”

“Do those kids look like the type to take naps?”

“Do you mean,” Elsa lifted her head just enough that Maren could see her face, hair cascading down and touching Maren’s shoulders. “You think they would resist a rest?”

“Elsa I _swear_ –“

And then they were giggling again.

* * *

Through the years she’d dated Elsa, particularly the most recent few, Maren had made many visits to the Arendelle. And she’d grown comfortable with one route and one route exactly – the path they took from the gates, through the main roads and into the castle. In terms of claustrophobia, it wasn’t so bad. They took the widest roads, plenty of space between the buildings. In terms of anxiety, she still jumped if people got too close, but she no longer went into fight or flight, which was progress.

But all that applied exclusively to that one path. So when Elsa dragged her through small alleys and sharp corners, she couldn’t help but feel like the fringes of her nerves were exposed on her skin. She had a snowflake shaped chocolate in one hand, and though Elsa’s intention of showing her around town warmed her heart, she didn’t feel hungry. Quite the opposite, actually – she felt a bit nauseous.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Elsa said, turning around. The fact that she was wearing Northrulda leathers didn’t help the bizarreness of the situation. She’d never seen Elsa wear them before. Her sense of fashion was unique, neither Northruldan nor Arendellian, composed by exquisitely elaborate dresses made of ice, magic and probably spite. Seeing her in leathers, her mother’s shawl wrapped around her shoulder, was an experience that gave Maren a mental form of whiplash every time she turned around.

She opened her mouth to speak. She wasn’t in a particularly tight alley, but there were walls on both her sides and she couldn’t help but feel they were closing in. “I just –“ her eyes darted from one side to the other. She tried to keep both walls within sight, out of an irrational fear that they would move if she stopped looking. She made a vague gesture with her hand. “I need to see the sky.”

“Say no more,” Elsa pulled her into a hug, one hand holding Maren’s waist, the other moving to the back of Maren’s head and pushing Maren’s face against her shoulder. “Close your eyes,” she whispered, and Maren did even though her mind screamed against it and her heart raced in an uncomfortable way.

She felt the ground go slippery beneath her feet and tightened her grip on Elsa, digging her fingers deep into leather when she heard surprised yelps from Arendellian citizens. Her breathing was fast and uneven, and she made the conscious effort to slow it down, focusing on the sounds of the ocean that grew louder.

“You can open them, now,” Elsa said, her voice close to Maren’s ear.

When Maren looked around, she found they’d moved from between buildings to a peaceful spot right above the shore, a trail of ice melting behind them. Elsa motioned to a bench and Maren sat, taking the chocolate she hadn’t even noticed she’d dropped back from Elsa’s hands. She bit into it. The sweetness helped her soul merge back with her body.

“How are you feeling?”

“A bit better,” she said, raising her eyes to the sky. She followed the clouds and counted her breaths. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s no problem.”

“No, really, I –“ Elsa sat down next to her, and Maren turned to face her. “I know you just wanted to show me around, take me to the places where you’ve made good memories. I appreciate it. I didn’t mean to –“

“Maren, it’s fine,” Elsa took Maren’s hand between her own. “You don’t need to apologize for a reaction you have no control over.”

She leaned back against the bench, throwing her head back, and sighed. “I still feel bad for ruining the moment. I guess I just don’t do well with tight spaces.”

“Gohatis and cabins are fine, though?”

_That’s right, keep trying to fool your remarkably perceptive and intelligent woman,_ she winced, then took a deep breath. “You’re right. This isn’t so much about where I am as it is about who’s around me. It’s Arendelle. I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable here.”

Elsa squeezed her hand, but didn’t speak. Maren took another bite of her chocolate, savoring the taste. It was indeed one of the best things she’d ever eaten. Elsa scooted closer and wrapped one arm around her, and Maren leaned her head on Elsa’s shoulder.

“At least I can appreciate the candy,” Maren nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “Thank you for this. It’s delicious.”

Elsa turned and kissed the top of her head, and Maren felt her cheeks heat up.

“You’re welcome. Is this…” Elsa shrugged. “Is it something you’d like to talk about?”

“I don’t…” she hesitated. “Arendelle stresses me out on conscious and subconscious levels. I wouldn’t know where to begin, how to explain things to you.”

“Mmh.” Elsa leaned forward and stole a bite of her chocolate. “Try an animal metaphor?”

Maren smiled. “You know when you’re walking in the woods and you see a snake? And you have that moment of panic in which you recoil, and then you take a longer look and realize that the snake you saw isn’t venomous and you’re actually safe?”

“No. I can’t tell snakes apart and I just assume they’re all out to get me.”

She snorted. “Well, even when you can, even when you know which species won’t hurt you, there’s a part of your brain that just keeps going snake-snake-snake-snake. No amount of reasoning will ever make you comfortable, because it’s just… instinct.”

“Arendelle is like a harmless snake?”

“Arendelle is like a _probably_ harmless snake.” She stared absently at her chocolate, thinking. “It’s like a very bright and colorful snake. Everything about it _screams_ venomous. People swear to you it’s not, but you’re not quite sure and you don’t want to risk it.”

“You feel that way even though the queen of this nation absolutely adores you?” Elsa snatched the chocolate from her hands and took a bite.

“I thought that was my chocolate.”

“You snooze, you lose,” Elsa elbowed her on the ribs playfully, but brought the chocolate closer to Maren’s lips. Maren took a bite. “And we’re engaged, too. By all practical means, you’re part of the royal family. You’re in fact…” She paused, frowned. “Sixth or seventh in line for the throne, depending on how the rest of us meet our demises.”

“I am? How does that work?”

“Direct lineage first, then bloodline.” Maren finished the chocolate, and Elsa crumpled the paper it had been wrapped on. “Agnarr is first in line and Joan is second, but if Agnarr ever has children of his own, then they come before Joan. So, it’s Anna’s four kids first.”

“Even though they’re so little?” Maren cuddled up closer so her side was pressed against Elsa’s.

“They’d be crown princes until they turned twenty-one, like I was, with a regent in rule meanwhile. That would probably be Kristoff. I didn’t have a regent, but I was already eighteen when my parents died. The parliament put some pressure but I stood my ground.” Elsa tossed the paper ball from one hand to the other.

“I thought Kristoff would come after Anna.”

“No, he’s not king, he’s prince consort. I have more of a claim than he does. I’m fifth in line.” Elsa set her eyes on the nearest trash bin. “Though as the eldest, I _can_ dispute that. It’s unlikely that I could reclaim the throne from my sister after resigning, but if something were to happen to her, odds are good that I could take it from Agnarr.”

Maren frowned. “What’s the logic there? Why is it all so complicated?”

“It has to do with the divine right to rule,” Elsa explained. “A philosophy that gained strength with Hobbes, though Hobbes himself didn’t believe in gods at all.” She took aim at the trash bin and tossed the paper. It sailed through the air and hit the edge of the can, but before it could fall to the ground, Elsa flicked her wrist and a gust of wind pushed it in.

“You cheat,” Maren teased.

Elsa grinned. “Whatever do you mean? My aim is perfect.”

She was such a sore loser, Maren couldn’t help but be amused. “So, what was that about divine right?”

“Right. Word is that kings are agents of the gods, and so blood matters. Kristoff lacks my… divine heritance,” Her face made clear how little regard she held for the concept. “So I’ll always have more of a claim than him. And the tricky thing is, Kristoff is not a noble, either, so I could argue I’m… holier than his son.”

“Even though your mother was not a noble as well?”

“That just means I’m half-noble. Agnarr is quarter-noble. I’m still holier.” She shrugged. “The parliament would be more likely to crown me regardless, mostly because they’re scared of me. If all of Anna’s descendants _and_ I are gone, though, then the consort of the last monarch is next in line. So either Kristoff if Anna was queen when we all get offed, or you, if I was in rule. Though either way, you could dispute. Your titles are equivalent.”

“Does that mean I’m princess?”

“Mm-hm. Princess consort. Kristoff is in rule, so that gives him a strong argument, but although neither one of you is a noble, mother was Northrulda, which gives _you_ an edge. Honestly, that’s a dispute I’d love to watch –“

“Wait, I’m _princess?”_ Maren blinked, her mind reeling.

“Princess consort,” Elsa corrected. “A special kind of princess. The last in line type. Spare of a spare.”

“I’m sorry, I’m still stuck on the fact that I’m princess of Arendelle.” She made an ambiguous groan of distress. “What the fuck.”

“Well, what did you expect when you started dating a member of the royal family?”

“I – I think it’s exceedingly clear that I knew nothing about your succession rules.” Maren rubbed the back of her neck. “I just wanted to kiss the pretty witch of the wilds. I had no idea how much bureaucracy was attached to you!”

Elsa laughed. Maren smiled and placed her hand on Elsa’s leg. Elsa covered it with her fingers. “Does the knowledge make you more comfortable to be here?”

“No! If anything, it makes me more of a target.”

“Mmh. Good point.” Elsa rubbed her thumb on the back of Maren’s hand.

“Look, I…” Maren tapped her foot on the cobblestone-paved street. “You and Anna have been a bridge in more ways than one. And if you keep doing this, if you keep making amends and working towards bringing our people together… I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe here, Elsa. But the next generations might.”

Elsa tipped her head in acquiescence. “I understand that. If it helps, though, know that no one would raise a finger against you in Arendelle, because they know me. They know I’d protect you. Has that not crossed your mind?”

It had not, and it took Maren a couple seconds to understand the concept. By then, though, the damage was already done. “I –“

“Oh by the gods,” Elsa said, frowning, looking frankly outraged. “It hasn’t? Don’t even try it, I can see it in your face. We’ve been dating for years, and not once,” she turned, sitting sideways on the bench, “Not _once_ did it cross your mind that I would protect you?!”

“I mean!” Maren protested, raising her palms, “I just never thought about it!”

“Your tense, war-veteran self never thought about the possibility we might be attacked?”

“Of course I did! I do! All the time!”

“And in such situations,” Elsa narrowed her eyes. “How did you imagine things would play out?”

“I –“ She paused and blinked. “I’d – well, I’d defend you, of course.”

“_You_ would defend _me_,” Elsa repeated, arching her eyebrows. “Really?”

“I would!”

“Maren, sweetheart, love of my life,” She grinned, sly, “Aren’t you forgetting one teeny tiny little detail? I’m magic! I have powers! Very powerful powers!”

“Well I have… a stick,” Maren replied, pouting. “And I hit really hard and really fast with it. Very powerful stick.”

Elsa laughed, then held her face and kissed her, still smiling. “Don’t give me that face.”

“I just love you,” Maren mumbled, sheepish.

The ghost of a smile touched Elsa’s lips, briefly, and then vanished just as fast. Maren took the chance to appreciate how she looked in Northruldan clothes. She’d borrowed Maren’s, so the pants were too short and ended at her ankles. The shirt, on the other hand, sat loosely on her shoulders, because Elsa was lithe where Maren was muscular. She’d tied her mother’s shawl around her neck, and it had bunched up on her back.

Maren’s eyes stopped on Elsa’s exposed collarbones, the cleavage clearly crooked to one side, and she reached out to adjust the shirt. She wasn’t sure why Elsa had decided to wear it, but she’d long accepted that Elsa just sort of did whatever she wanted. “I wish you’d told me you wanted some leathers. I could have gotten something your size.”

“I didn’t plan for this,” Elsa replied absently, and Maren could tell by the way she was frowning that she had something in mind. “I didn’t plan for you. I planned for a lot of things, you know? That’s how I am. I think ahead. I prepare. But never in my wildest dreams I…” she trailed off.

Maren let her take her time. She watched the waves lap peacefully at the shore. She reached for Elsa’s hand, but Elsa pulled it back, instead reaching for the shawl. She untied it, unfolded it and wrapped it around Maren’s shoulders, then she held Maren’s gaze for a long time.

Maren stared back at her, at her beautiful blue eyes, at the way her hair framed her face. She stared at the little Northrulda hat on top of Elsa’s head, one that didn’t seem out of place despite how Arendellian she looked. She wore it well, like she wore the leathers well, like she wore _anything_ well, because her presence was so imposing, so regal, she could make anything seem like the finest dress.

“I didn’t plan for you,” Elsa repeated, her voice snapping Maren back to reality. She moved closer, and for a second Maren thought she’d get another kiss, but instead Elsa’s hands went back to the shawl and carefully adjusted it around Maren’s shoulders. “But you came along, and you kept me warm.”

She paused. The intensity of Elsa’s stare was such, Maren didn’t think she could find her voice if she tried to speak. Elsa touched Maren’s face, fingertips tracing her lips, and Maren’s heart raced so much it might have leapt out of her throat.

“Be mine,” Elsa said simply, but the confidence and authority were suddenly gone from her tone, so it almost sounded like a question.

Maren touched the shawl, toyed with the fringes of the cloth. “I already am. I think I’ve been yours ever since you set foot in that forest and promised me the sky.”

“Then marry me,” Elsa whispered, then inhaled, and Maren could see that she was holding her breath.

It was unexpected, spontaneous, clearly unplanned, and Maren felt giddy elation bubble in her chest. “Did you even get a ring?” She grinned. “Or are you proposing me on impulse? I hope you at least got a ring, because if you didn’t and Anna hears of it –“

“It felt like the right moment,” Elsa said, sheepish, her cheeks flushing pink. “And of course I got a ring! Here,” She reached inside her pocket and her hand lingered there for far too little time. When she pulled it back, she was holding a simple ring of pure crystal. It shimmered, translucid, splitting the sunlight into rainbows.

“You made that with magic just now, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” Elsa smiled with a smug face that told Maren what she meant was ‘_definitely, but you can’t prove it’_. “So that’s a yes?”

“I’ll think about it.” Maren winked.

Elsa scowled, then crossed her arms. “You’re an asshole.”

“You deserve it.”

“Can’t argue against that.”

Maren leaned in for a brief kiss, then grabbed Elsa’s hands and squeezed them, looking her in the eyes. “The answer is yes. Of course. In a heartbeat. I’d follow you on every single crazy adventure you set me up to, this one included.” She brought Elsa’s hands to her lips and kissed them. “But you know that. You know all of that. So here’s something you might not know. When I first saw you, all I could think was that you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

Elsa’s smile was so open and warm, Maren couldn’t help but smile back. “I mean it! I know it may sound silly or superficial but you make such an _impact_, did you know? You walk into a room and suddenly you’re all everyone can look at. It’s as if you were glowing.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not!” Maren toyed with Elsa’s fingers. “I’d never seen Arendellians as anything other than a menace before. But you were…” She shook her head. “You made me speechless. I was just dying for any excuse to talk to you. To get to know you. And then I told you about Ahtohallan and you just straight up left to chase it and all I could think was _‘fuck_, I got that crazy bastard killed.’”

Elsa burst out laughing. Maren kissed her knuckles. “It was so good to see you again. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if you hadn’t returned.”

“I did die. Briefly. But then I came back.”

“Crazy fucking bastard,” Maren repeated, pressing her lips against Elsa’s palms. “And then the curse was broken and I knew you had to go back, you were the damn queen of Arendelle, so I was already thinking about all these crazy… plans to see you again.”

“What were they?”

“Oh, they all involved accompanying Yelana and finally owning up to all the leadership duties I kept dodging.” She took Elsa’s hand to her cheek. “I would have braved through those boring tasks years sooner if it meant I got to see you every now and then. I wanted you to stay so bad, and then I had the dumbest idea. I thought maybe I’d just ask!” She laughed. “Maybe I’d just ask the reigning monarch of an enemy kingdom to stay behind in the magical forest, what could go wrong?”

“I’m glad you did,” Elsa traced the shape of Maren’s jaw.

“You would have stayed anyway. You always do whatever you want.” She kissed Elsa on the wrist.

“I would, but I’m still glad you asked. You made me feel welcome. You always do.”

“I’d always dreamt of getting to know the world outside the forest,” Maren rubbed her thumb on the side of Elsa’s hand. “And that’s been great! It’s been beautiful. I know there’s so much out there to see, and I can’t wait to take some vacations and just travel around for a while.”

“There are some places I want to show you,” Elsa moved her hand to the back of Maren’s neck. “Beaches, mountains, wonderful sights. I travelled a lot when I was queen. I could take you all over.”

“I’d love that. But, Elsa,” Maren pulled back to look at her fully, “Even more wonderful than getting to know the world was getting to know you. If I had to choose between one or the other, I’d choose you. I’m incredibly lucky that I get to have both.”

Elsa inhaled sharply and looked away for a second, and then, unexpectedly, turned back, tearing up. “I love you.” She sniffled, and Maren allowed her a moment to regain her composure. Then she took the ring between her thumb and index finger, and extended Maren her free hand. “May I?”

Maren touched the shawl’s soft fabric, smiled, then placed her hand on top of Elsa’s palm. “You may.”

The ring on her finger remained pleasantly cool the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter to go puta merda
> 
> there are a few things to explore here, the first of which being how would Elsa cope with motherhood
> 
> and I had the biggest trouble seeing her as a motherly figure until I understood the fundamental mistake in my thinking and realized that elsa doesn't have it in her to be a mom 
> 
> because she is a **dad**
> 
> just think about it. elsa sitting on the breakfast table, reading a newspaper. elsa giving the kids piggyback rides. elsa leaving handwritten notes for maren, in all caps. elsa competitive about grilling. elsa teaching woodworking to the kids, elsa fixing the leaks on the pipes, patting her belly after a big meal, napping on the couch while denying she's asleep. ELSA DAD JOKES.
> 
> elsa is a dad. no i don't take constructive criticism on this. 
> 
> also regarding this chapter I'd like to bring to attention that elsa is the anti-kristoff
> 
> kristoff, contemplating a proposal: "I'm gonna get this right"  
elsa, contemplating a proposal: YEET
> 
> the special thanks this chapter goes to [red](https://reservation-red.tumblr.com/) who took the time to educate me in like. so many things. i am thoroughly educated now. i have been taught.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it ends

Elsa’s favorite part of undressing was, by far, the moment where she got to kick off her shoes. She’d walk everywhere barefoot if she could, because shoes were like gloves for feet and she did not like gloves, but the forest ground was most unfriendly to uncovered skin.

When she slipped into the warm water of the hot springs, she didn’t hold back a pleased moan. She felt her muscles relax from the heat and dove in deep, keeping herself submerged for as long as she could. Elsa liked the weightlessness that came with swimming. She had learned it, as a child, but Maren had still painstakingly given her lessons until Elsa felt ready to compete with a seal for fish.

When her lungs finally begged for mercy and she came back up, Maren had already entered the water. She had a comb made of bone in one hand, and when she clicked her tongue, Elsa dove again, kicking her feet underwater to resurface right in front of Maren, who jumped back in surprise.

Maren scowled at her. “You’re impossible.”

Elsa snickered, but didn’t reply, instead giving her a peck on the lips and turning around. A moment later, she felt Maren’s fingers brush against her neck, pulling her hair back. Elsa decided that wasn’t enough contact and grabbed Maren’s hand before she could go for the comb again, fingertips brushing over the cool ring she’d placed there herself. 

She interlaced their fingers and pulled Maren closer so that their bare bodies touched. Maren sighed impatiently, but didn’t protest, pressing a kiss on Elsa’s shoulder. “You’re agitated today, Snowflake.” Her voice was smooth, barely above a whisper, and the quiet tone was soothing. “Are you okay?”

“Mmh.” Elsa turned around to face her and cuddled up, pressing her head on the curve of Maren’s neck. Maren took the hint and embraced her, kissing her exposed skin and squeezing her hand. “Just worried.”

“About my parents?” 

She was always spot on in her guesses, something which had scared Elsa at first, though now she mostly found it comforting. “Mm-hm.” Maren trailed her hands up Elsa’s spine, and Elsa relaxed into her hold. “Do you think they liked me?” Elsa’s voice was impassive, and she felt a twinge of self-directed anger for it. Even alone with the woman she was about to wed, she couldn’t help but hide her insecurity behind a cold façade.

If Maren noticed her change in tone, she didn’t show it. “Why of course they did,” Maren pulled back to face Elsa and booped her nose with her index finger. “You’re a very likeable woman. A sweetheart, really.”

“I got the coffee wrong,” Elsa muttered, breaking eye contact. She felt a blush creep over her cheeks and praised her body for a moment of involuntary emotional expression. “I had one thing to get right and I messed up.”

Maren snorted. Elsa could tell she was biting back laughter. “The coffee was fine, it was just… cold.” A giggle escaped her throat. Elsa pouted. “Don’t give me that face,” Maren leaned in and kissed her briefly. “You did fine. It’s not about the quality of the coffee, it’s about the intent behind it. Mom and dad can tell you care.”

“I messed up the coffee,” Elsa insisted, still grouchy.

“You did, a little, but who knows? Maybe cold coffee is the next big thing. Now turn around,” She made a circular motion with her finger, and Elsa obeyed, “Let me get through this rat’s nest that is your hair.”

Elsa felt the gentle pressure of the comb against her scalp and bowed her head. “Maren,” she mumbled, grunting when Maren undid a knot in her hair with the comb. She pushed the words out of her mouth quickly, before they could evade her, while the topic of conversation was just coffee and the stakes were low. “Maren, I love you.”

“I love you too, Snowflake,” Maren replied without hesitation, and for a brief moment, Elsa envied her for that – for how easy the words came out of her mouth, for how she didn’t have to wrestle them out of her throat in the moments when they weren’t under the watchful eyes of others. “Darling wife-to-be.”

Elsa turned sideways to exhibit her blush proudly. “Yes.”

Maren kissed the corner of her mouth, then turned her back around and resumed her combing. Elsa spoke very little when it was just the two of them, because Maren had a way of communicating through touch and gestures that Elsa was addicted to.

“Must you run through every bramble in the forest?” Maren grumbled, the comb stuck on a particularly messy tangle.

Elsa knew the thick strands of her hair very well. In her childhood, they had been a curse, what with how hard they were to keep in the braids and buns she had to wear. But it also meant the knots undid easy, and her hair was quick to tame in the mornings, and like most things about her, it had started to feel like a blessing instead. “Mmh.”

“Honestly,” Maren pulled her hair free, ever so gentle, ever so patient, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you do it on purpose.” She stopped her combing then, and Elsa could almost imagine the look on her face. “Do you?”

Elsa didn’t answer. Maren resumed combing.

“You know, if you want me to do something for you,” Maren spoke in that soft, warm tone that made Elsa’s knees go weak, “Or if you want me to do something _to_ you. You can just ask.” She put the comb down on the edge of the hot springs, then tangled her fingers on Elsa’s hair.

“I know. But I like -” She cut herself short when the words escaped her. Maren didn’t interrupt her, and Elsa let her thoughts catch up with her voice. “I like it that you notice. And that you offer. I like it that you pay attention. It makes me feel –“ _like I exist “_ – like I matter.”

Silence. Elsa liked that Maren didn’t make a big deal about it, didn’t make her talk about feelings which she found overwhelming and unpleasant. She also liked the gentle tugging of Maren’s fingers as they ran through her hair.

“Is that something you’d like to discuss?”

“Not today.” Elsa replied. Maren didn’t press the topic. Elsa felt grateful that she asked, and felt grateful that she didn’t push. Elsa felt grateful for a lot of things. “Thank you.”

Maren tapped her on the shoulder, and Elsa turned around. “Anytime, my darling.” Maren kissed her forehead. She didn’t ask what the thanks were for, and Elsa didn’t feel the need to specify, not when Maren held her so kindly, and not when Maren gazed at her with eyes the color of Elsa’s favorite chocolates.

Elsa felt herself tear up and swallowed it down. She cried a lot in moments like these – when it was just the two of them, and Maren touched her without fear, and she felt as if she belonged. Maren never asked why. Sometimes, Elsa would tell her. Most times, though, she didn’t.

But she didn’t want to cry, and so she sunk into the water, let it cover her chest and shoulders and neck until nothing but her eyes and nose stuck out of the water. She walked over the rocks like that, seeing the surface of the water, closing her eyes when it splashed on them.

“What are you doing?”

Elsa rose a little, just enough so she could speak. “Pretending I’m a crocodile.”

Maren blinked once, then again. “Okay. Let me know if you learn anything.”

Elsa lowered herself into the water again. She walked circles in the pool. She watched Maren comb her own hair, then put the comb away and relax, letting her legs float. Elsa walked around some more.

When she rose, Maren had eyes closed, and opened a single one when she heard Elsa approach. “Well?”

“Water keeps getting in my eyes,” She complained, swimming to Maren’s back to hug her from behind. “But it’s a good position, because I can see the tiniest ripples on the pool surface.”

Elsa wrapped her arms around Maren, enveloping her entirely. Elsa had never thought of herself as aesthetically unpleasing – quite the opposite, really – but her limbs had always been long to an awkward extent, so much that her teen years had been a nightmare of bumping into things.

She was too fucking tall, almost as tall as Kristoff, except Kristoff was overall a big man, whereas Elsa was just gangly. It was inconvenient most times, but she _really_ liked being taller than Maren, because she loved holding Maren like that, chin on her shoulder.

“They have inner eyelids.”

“Mm?”

“The crocodiles, I mean.” Maren leaned back against her. Elsa kissed her on the nape. “They have two sets of eyelids. The outer ones are like ours, but the inner ones are like this… transparent membrane. Almost like… soft, viscous glass. That’s why the water doesn’t get into their eyes.”

“Oh.” There was something immensely charming about an ample knowledge of animals, something Anna had told Elsa about Kristoff but Elsa hadn’t really understood until she met Maren. “That makes sense. I never stood a chance, then.”

“Stood a – what’s that supposed to mean? Are you planning to go on a fishing competition against a massive sharp lizard?”

Elsa smiled. Maren turned around and splashed her. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Your parents approve.” Elsa splashed back, grinning.

“They don’t know better.” Maren rested her wrists on Elsa’s shoulders.

“Do you?”

Maren didn’t answer. She moved closer, eyes drifting from Elsa’s face to her lips. Elsa invited her in with a smile, her whole body responding to the gentleness of Maren’s touch. She was the one to close the distance between them, to give continuity to the tug-of-war they played, a game which Maren always, always let her win.

Perhaps that was why she was so comfortable with this whole thing – with the fire that spread through her veins when Maren’s fingers moved from the small of her back to squeeze her ass, making her moan. She’d given herself to Maren again and again, would give herself a thousand times over, and though Maren was not the first to touch her like that, she was the first one Elsa would ever give up control for.

Maren deepened the kiss, pushing Elsa’s back against a smooth rock. Maren always kissed her as if she had all the time in the world, deliberate and thorough and tantalizingly slow. Her kisses moved from Elsa’s lips to her neck and collarbones, and Elsa dug her fingers on her skin, moaning quietly when Maren flicked her tongue over her nipple.

She tangled her fingers on Maren’s hair, pulling her head back up for another kiss. When Maren snuck a hand between her legs, Elsa’s breath hitched. Moments like these, too, she was used to tearing up, sometimes straight up breaking into sobs which were the only way she managed to express the overwhelming mixture of joy and relief she felt.

This was exclusive to Maren – though she’d been naked in the sheets of others, none had ever made her feel that bare. It had scared her at first, scared the both of them, how it happened without warning and completely out of Elsa’s control. But Maren knew her, body and soul, and she knew when to slow down, when to stop, and what kind of touch Elsa needed even when Elsa wasn’t quite sure herself.

It could have been nerve-racking, the cold tears running down her cheek without any explanation. Had Maren panicked at them or worse still, looked at Elsa with any sort of pity, it could have been enough to drive an unbridgeable gap between them.

But Maren didn’t. Instead she pulled back just enough to make eye contact, her hands moving back to the safe zone of Elsa’s hips. “Overwhelmed?”

“Mm-hm.”

Maren lifted her and turned so that they switched places, and just like that, feeling less trapped, Elsa took a deep breath and the air expanded her lungs a little better. It wasn’t as much about having control as it was about knowing she could take it, if she felt the need.

And Maren was excellent at making her feel comfortable. “A little better?”

She nodded. Maren cupped her face, rubbing her thumbs against Elsa’s cheek. Elsa sunk into the water and moved closer, tucking her head under Maren’s chin. Maren caressed the back of Elsa’s neck and hummed.

“Snowflake,” Maren spoke after a while, when Elsa’s quiet weeping had subsided. “Did you know that crocodiles never stop making new teeth? When they lose a tooth they just make another and another.” Elsa tilted her head. Maren smiled. “Did you know they swallow little stones to help with digestion?”

“That sounds fake.”

“It’s not, I promise!” Maren said with a smirk, and Elsa couldn’t quite tell whether she was being tricked. “You can ask the others about it!”

Elsa narrowed her eyes. Maren took Elsa’s hands and kissed her palms, sending a shiver down her spine. She felt her heart skip a beat when Maren didn’t stop, moving to kiss her knuckles and then the tips of her fingers. Elsa felt a feeling rise up her chest, but right then the words were stuck at her throat. “What else about crocodiles?”

“The muscles that close their jaws are really strong, but the muscles that open them are really weak, so you can hold a crocodile’s mouth closed with your hands.” Maren’s lips touched her wrist. “Um. Please don’t try that. I really like your hands.”

_She touches me as if she had nothing to fear_, Elsa thought when Maren moved Elsa’s hand to her cheek. _Because she doesn’t,_ she realized, and the understanding that washed over her was so great, it made her feel dizzy. _Except for Anna, I’ve never hurt anyone I didn’t mean to. I’ve never hurt anyone I didn’t mean –_

“I need to talk to my parents,” Elsa leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. “To their spirits, their memories, I don’t know. But I need… that closure. I think Ahtohallan can grant me that much.”

Maren stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Okay. But you remember the ominous lullaby –“

“Not too far or you’ll be drowned,” Elsa muttered. “I know. I was there. I drowned.” She raised her head. “I won’t make the same mistake again.”

“That’s _exactly_ what worries me,” Maren poked her on the nose. “You know, most people who drown are good swimmers, because people who can’t swim stay away from water altogether. You’re like the really good swimmer who thinks they can go one-on-one against the ocean.”

“I did. I won.”

“You’re not helping set my mind at ease here, sweetheart,” Maren’s expression seemed so heartbroken, Elsa couldn’t help but move closer. “I mean it. Do what you must, but come back to me, okay?”

Again, Elsa felt her emotions rise up her throat like bile, and she had to actively stop the impulse to swallow them down and dissolve them in the acid of her stomach. “I will.” It was immensely frustrating, how it didn’t get any easier for her – quite the opposite. The more she opened up, the harder it seemed, as if she was always swimming against a tide. “Maren…” she clenched her jaw, leaned in for a sloppy kiss, then pulled back, looking distraught. “Honey, I…”

“I know.” When her fingers touched Elsa’s cheeks, they’d grown wrinkly from being underwater too long, something which Elsa’s skin never did. “And I know words are hard for you. You don’t have to say it. I feel it.” Maren held Elsa’s waist and tugged her lightly, just enough that Elsa felt the warmth coil inside her again.

In a single smooth movement, she switched places, then yanked Maren so that their abdomens touched. “Finish what you started.”

“Yes, my queen,” Maren replied, and the knowledge that the title had been used specifically to tease her did nothing to shield her from the irrational response it caused.

Elsa opened her mouth to protest, but Maren kissed her, and the words evaded her once again.

* * *

Maren had packed her lunch to go to Ahtohallan.

There was something surreal about the idea that her fiancée had taken the time to prepare her food so she had something to snack on while she searched a magical glacier for the ghost of her dead parents, and every time Elsa looked at the leather lunchbox she carried, she felt the urge to snicker.

It was also a comfort, almost a lifeline, and she clung to it tightly as she delved into the depths of ice. Maren had offered her another way to communicate with the spirits – a journey not unlike the one Elsa had helped Maren with – and as her footsteps echoed down the chambers of Ahtohallan, Elsa wished she’d taken it instead.

She felt lonely. Ahtohallan wasn’t a place for regular people to visit and though she’d spent a lot of time there, she knew it wasn’t fully safe – not for her, not for anyone else. The magic that flowed there was deep, ancient, enrapturing in a dangerous way. And although not inherently hostile, Ahtohallan was a place that would keep her forever, if she let it.

From what Maren had told her, the Northrulda never communed with the spirits alone – the rituals were always performed with at least two people present. Elsa had thought at first it had to do with the use of hallucinogens, but faced with the prospect of meeting her parents once again, she understood there was more to it.

Elsa was afraid. There was no way around that simple truth – she was scared. Even though years separated her from the turmoil of her childhood. Even though she’d matured so much. Even though her parents no longer had power over her. She was terrified. She wished there was someone there with her. Maybe Maren, though she didn’t want Maren to witness once again just how far the darkness inside her went. Maybe Anna, though she didn’t want Anna to see the true depths of the abuse she’d shouldered. Maybe –

_And this is why I have to do it alone,_ she jumped down the steps of ice she’d built when she first entered the glacier, then slid across the corridors until she found herself in the chamber where she’d first discovered her role as the fifth spirit. She raised her eyes to its glassy dome, where several scenes of the past played out.

Without stopping to watch any of them, Elsa took a seat on a corner of the room, holding her lunchbox on her lap, and closed her eyes. “Hi there.” She hadn’t expected the glacier to answer, not verbally, though she knew without a sliver of doubt that Ahtohallan was alive and over the years, she’d become quite proficient at understanding it. “It’s been a while.”

Elsa opened her eyes. The memories had stopped moving above her, and she sighed. “Oh, don’t give me that nonsense. I come every solstice.” The wind howled. She frowned. “Because it’s spooky here. It’s not a place people should stay for long – and yes, I count as people.”

The room fell into silence. Elsa untied the knot that held her lunchbox closed and peeked inside. She smiled at the contents – a jam sandwich that she could tell by the smell was raspberry, a small glass of juice and a folded-up note. Elsa touched her fingertips on the paper, but didn’t open it.

She raised her eyes to the dome. “I need to see my parents. Their memories, their spirits, I don’t know. I just need to talk to them one last time.”

The walls of Ahtohallan seemed to glow, but nothing else happened. Elsa took a deep breath and extended her legs. “Yeah, I know. I’m scared. It’s stupid, isn’t it? I just –“ She rubbed her face with her palms. “Gods, I’m sitting here talking to a glacier like a madwoman.”

There was a harsh crack, and a small chunk of ice hit her on the head. “Ouch!” Elsa scrambled to her feet, scowling. “Yeah, yeah, fine. No need to be pushy.” Elsa hesitated. She tracked the dancing lights on the roof. “I just need a moment to brace myself.”

She paced to the opposite end of the room, then walked back. “I can do this,” she muttered under her breath. “I got this, I got this.” She was trembling. Her breathing was a little too fast. She stopped moving and leaned against one of the walls. It seemed to vibrate under her skin. “True, that might comfort me.”

She crouched in front of the lunchbox and picked the note up. Something fell from between the papers, and before it could bounce on the ground, Elsa caught it on reflex. She smiled when she saw what it was – the red poker chip she’d given Maren on the night they’d played cards with Anna and Kristoff.

Holding the chip between her fingers, she unfolded the paper and ran her eyes over the text. It was written in Northruldan, which she’d eventually learned under Maren’s tutelage. The language was pictographic, and she focused on the first sign, the one the Northrulda had essentially adopted as her written name.

_Snowflake_, it said, and Elsa touched her fingers against the ink. _Stay safe and don’t forget to eat. And remember: you’re a terrifying witch queen and nothing can get to you. Except diving too deep in Ahtohallan, and if you do that, so help me gods, I’ll fish you out of the ice and drown you myself. I'm betting all my chips on you._

_Yours, Honey._

Elsa smiled, folded the paper and placed it back in the lunchbox, then closed it, still holding the chip between her fingers. “Okay,” She straightened her Northrulda leathers, her size this time, a gift from Maren’s parents. They got soaked from riding Nokk, and she had to keep magicking them dry, but she appreciated their thoughtfulness so much, she didn’t mind the extra work. “Okay, I’m ready.”

There was no big announcement, no great show of lights and sounds like she’d witnessed the first time she’d been in Ahtohallan. She just turned around, and they were there – the figures of her mother and father, perfect as they had been the last time she saw them, save for an eerie gleam on their skins that reminded her that if she looked at just the right angle, she’d see they were made of ice.

Elsa was not ready. She took a step away from them, heart hammering, and her back hit the cold ice walls that shouldn’t be so close, as if the glacier itself was trying to lend her support. She felt sick to her stomach. She was on the verge of tears, or on the verge of a panic, or perhaps both, she couldn’t decide.

She squeezed the chip hard against her palm. “Mom. Dad.” _I missed you. I didn’t miss you at all._ “It’s… been a while.”

“I knew you’d call, eventually,” Iduna said, and Elsa was smacked on the face by how unprepared she was to hear her voice.

She stood perfectly still for almost a whole minute, eyes darting from her mother to her father and back, body stuck between fight, flight or play dead, until something else bubbled to the surface – the cold rage that shielded her for so many years.

Elsa stepped forward and met their gazes one at a time. “What the _fuck_ is wrong with the two of you?!”

“Elsa –“ her father began with a warning tone, but Iduna interrupted him before he could finish the potential threat.

“No, let her. That… is a fair question.” She moved closer and reached to touch Elsa’s shoulders, but Elsa backed away. She saw the hurt in Iduna’s face and steeled her heart against it. “You’re wearing Northrulda leathers.”

“Yes. Thank you for telling me about that, by the way.” She tried and failed to keep the venom out of her words. Elsa thought she was over this, but Maren, bless her soul, was right once again – this was a sinkhole she’d set on fire and would never, ever stop burning unless she did something about it. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t. “I think you owe me an explanation. Or several.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Iduna sighed. “And you’re right. Answers are the least I could give you. So ask away.”

Elsa paced. She wished she wouldn’t, but she had too much anxious energy building up. She raised her hand, dropped it, paced some more. “Why didn’t you tell me about who you were?”

Iduna crossed her arms and looked away. Elsa waited for her answer. When it came, the raw nonchalance she spoke with was chilling. “Strategy.”

Agnarr flinched. Elsa stopped walking. And her brain was treacherous, just like that – think first, feel later – and she spoke with no filter and no regards for harm. “Of course. You were a child trapped in an enemy nation. Nothing smarter than seducing the crown prince. Was that what you figured?”

Iduna set her jaw. “Not… at first, no. That’s not the kind of thought a child would have.”

“Not one raised as you were, at least,” Elsa said before she could catch herself. She knew she should stop pushing it, but she was just so _furious_ – “Later, then. When you grew older. You knew he was your best chance at… being safe.”

“Elsa, this isn’t fair –“ Agnarr began.

“Shut the _fuck_ up!” Elsa jumped back at the loudness of her own voice. She felt the tingle of magic run through her veins, and held it in. “Hurts to hear, doesn’t it? Deal with it. Gods know I had to.” She turned back to her mother. “So that was it between you? A one-sided business deal?”

“There was love,” Iduna turned away from her, but Elsa could still see the icy tears running down her cheeks. “Love is a choice. We chose each other. But yes. I was afraid of telling your father. You saw how things went between the Northrulda and the Arendellians. The longer I kept the truth from him, the harder it was to bring it up. And I was hurt inside, Elsa. I think you of all people understand.”

She felt the irrational fury rise up again. “You made sure I did, didn’t you?” The walls of Ahtohallan shone a dangerous hue of red, and Elsa saw it for what it was – a warning. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” She _wasn’t_. There was poison inside her. She wanted to cry. She turned to her father. “You’re a real piece of shit, aren’t you?”

Agnarr stepped in front of Iduna, as if to shield her. Elsa felt the ice inside her grow jagged and twisted. There was a deafening noise of something crumbling and the ground around her shook. The red grew deeper, turning into crimson. Elsa tried to stop herself, but couldn’t. She slammed her palm on his chest, pushing him back. “When your father beat you up,” she hissed. “Did that turn you into a good man?”

The ice beneath her feet cracked. She heard the wind howl and knew it was her last warning. _You make your knowledge into a weapon_, Maren’s words echoed in her mind. Elsa backed away, the horror of what she’d said creeping in. She could tell, by the hurt in her father’s eyes, that she’d been spot on. That she’d salted the wound.

The upper hand she gained from hurting him felt hollow. She wanted to cry so, so bad. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t. Her remorselessness scared her. She felt no joy from his pain, but no regret, either. A familiar emptiness washed over her. She stared at her hands, toying with her poker chip. “The type of love you offer… hurts.”

“Elsa,” her mother closed the distance between them and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Daughter, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” she said, and her voice broke, and she choked back a sob on the raw force of pride. “You can explain what you did, but you can’t justify it. You two fucked me up. Fucked my sister up, too.”

“I’m sorry.” Iduna pulled her into a hug. Her skin was smooth ice. “I wish I’d been braver. I wish I’d been stronger. I wish I’d done better by you.”

“That isn’t worth shit,” she pressed her back against the wall for balance. “I hate you.” She didn’t. She pitied her. She didn’t know whether that was better or worse. She wanted to cry and couldn’t, and that was her parents’ fault.

“I’m sorry,” Iduna repeated, and Elsa let herself slide down the ice until she was sitting, Iduna crouching in front of her. “I’m so sorry I can’t make it up to you.”

“Fuck you!” Elsa covered her face with her palms to hide her tears. She gripped her own hair, tugged at it, and the pain helped her thoughts rearrange into shape.

“Why did you come here, Elsa?”

“I wanted to forgive you,” she cleared her throat and coughed. “I wanted to get rid of this thing inside me – this acid eating me up. I want to let go of it. I’m trying. But I’m so damn angry.”

Iduna touched her hands, and Elsa pulled them away. “I wasn’t a good mother. We weren’t good parents. We – we weren’t ready. Not ready to be adults, not ready to be married, not ready to have children.”

“I don’t want to know,” Elsa realized right then, finally grasping the fact that it didn’t matter – that nothing her parents said would help her healing. “The more I learn, the hollower it feels – to know all the harm done to me was just so… banal. Pointless.” She took a deep breath. “I thought forgiveness would come if I could only understand your motivations, why you did what you did. But…”

_But forgiveness can only come from myself. _“I hurt you.” She met Iduna’s eyes. “I hurt you, and I meant it.”

When the words left her lips, all she could feel was relief.

“I know. We know.”

“You were going to send me away,” Elsa wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “And Anna – I wanted to protect Anna.” She set her jaw. “I would do anything, _anything_ to keep Anna safe.”

“You saw the letter.” Iduna sat in front of her and crossed her legs. “I wish you hadn’t. On the night we got that, I… I told your father.”

“We were going to change things,” Agnarr approached and crouched in front of her. “We were going to let you see Anna again. I’m sorry, daughter.”

Elsa felt the bitter anger bubble inside her again. “I don’t believe you.” She shook her head. “It’s not – not fair. Saying you would have changed given one more chance? That’s easy. Truth is you had twenty-one miserable years to do better, and you didn’t. So maybe you would have. But it was too little, too late. I – “ She looked away. “I hurt you. I meant it. I don’t regret it. I did the best I could with what I had. But…” She faced them again, the ghosts of her past. “But I’m sorry. I wish things had gone differently. I wish I hadn’t felt like there was no other way out.”

Iduna reached for her hand again. This time, Elsa let the contact happen. Iduna squeezed her fingers and smiled sadly. “I think perhaps we should forgive ourselves and each other, so we can all move on.”

_I think perhaps you should go fuck yourself,_ Elsa thought reflexively, but this time, for once, she was able to catch it before the words left her lips. She sighed in defeat and took a couple seconds to calm down. Her mother had offered her an olive branch. She wondered whether she felt ready to take it. “That… might take a while.”

“That’s okay,” Iduna moved so she could sit next to her. Agnarr mimicked her, so that they each sat by one of Elsa’s sides. “Good things take time and effort.”

“It’ll take more than just that.” Elsa stared at her ghostly shape, thinking. “I can only hope to mend this if I feel safe around you. And for that, you need to respect that I am my own person.” The hues on the walls had faded to more friendly tones. Elsa stared at the lunchbox near her feet and moved her poker chip from hand to hand. “I’m getting married.”

Iduna’s eyes widened for a split second, then she smiled and squeezed Elsa’s hand. “That’s wonderful news, darling.”

She looked sincere enough. Elsa allowed herself to smile back. “Yeah. We haven’t set a date yet.” She touched the lunchbox absently. “Maybe we’ll have a honeymoon in Corona. Somewhere warm, for a change.”

Agnarr tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. Elsa winced, and he pulled back. “It is good news,” he nodded. “Is he good for you?”

Elsa turned to face him and gave him a long, chilling look. “Yeah. She is.”

“Is she Northrulda?” Iduna chirped, touching the sleeve of her shirt, then picking up the lunchbox. “She is, isn’t she? She made you lunch, even. Did she make you the leathers as well?”

“Her parents,” Elsa absently brought her fingers to the hat on her head. “They’re leatherworkers. She made me the hat, though.”

“Nattura?” Iduna elbowed her lightly on the ribs. “Leather was their family trade.”

“Mmh-hm.” There was something natural about it, talking to her mother about things like that. It was bittersweet, filled with mistrust, and she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, but it was a start, and Elsa made herself take that first step. “She’s chief, though. I think she knows a little leatherwork, but not much.”

“Wife of the chief,” Iduna mused. “How are the Northulda taking that? Have you adapted well, for that matter? We were always welcoming.”

“They treat me… sort of like Bruni and Gale? Like a forest cryptid, which I suppose I am.” She scratched her head absently. “The Northrulda are thrilled their leader’s marriage will make for better relations with Arendelle. And after years of magic mist, I think they find it reassuring that I help Honeymaren run things. They claim the spirits are pleased or something like that,” Elsa shrugged. “The ‘spirits’ being me? I don’t know. Maren is really reasonable. She’d do fine without my intervention, but I like helping.”

“Have you met my sister?” Iduna asked.

Elsa took a long moment of silence. “Met her? Yes. Approached her? Not really. I…” _She looks like you and I don’t want any such authority figures in my life. _“Maybe I will. I haven’t actually been living with the Northrulda for long. I’d still be haunting the forest if Maren hadn’t wrapped me around her finger.”

“This girl really did a number on you, huh?” Agnarr mumbled, almost wistful.

Elsa bowed her head to hide a smile, moving the chip between her fingers. “Maren is…” She hesitated. “She feels like… when you walk into your office and there’s sunshine seeping through the window, and you stop by and let it warm your back.” Elsa fidgeted with her chip. “She feels like the first sip of warm coffee in the morning. She feels like hearing the sound of rain tapping on windows when you’re cuddling under blankets. She feels…” Elsa wiped her own cheek absently. “She feels like the home you always want to return to.”

Iduna touched her hair, caressed it ever so gently, and Elsa leaned her head into her mother’s shoulder. “I’m happy to see you doing well. Would you like our blessing, for the marriage?”

Elsa opened the lunchbox and picked the sandwich up. She wondered if she should offer some. She wondered if ice sculptures possessed by spirits ate. She was a spirit, and she ate, so maybe they did. She wondered if they were hungry.

Elsa decided she didn’t want to share and took a bite. “That would be appreciated.”

“Then you have it. May the two of you be very happy.” Iduna pressed an ice-cold kiss against Elsa’s forehead. Agnarr nodded, and Elsa allowed him to place a hand on her shoulder.

“I feel obliged to inquire about grandchildren.”

Elsa scoffed, taking another bite of her meal. It had the taste of something made with love. She breathed in deep and smiled. “Anna has a whole litter of children. They’re lovely little imps.” She turned to her father. “The eldest is named after you.”

Agnarr smiled. He might have teared up, but Elsa wasn’t looking. She chewed her food slowly, appreciating the sweetness. She could feel the energy that held them fade, Ahtohallan calling them back, and just like she hadn’t been ready to greet them, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye. “I like raspberries,” she mumbled instead, and then added, “Maybe, if Maren and I… maybe I’ll name my first after mom.”

Silence. Elsa finished her sandwich and licked the tips of her fingers. When she turned around, she found herself sitting next to two statues of pure ice. She took her hand to her mother’s face, traced its smile and the single frozen tear running down her cheek.

Elsa sighed and raised her eyes to the icy dome. “Will I see them again?” She tilted her head and listened for an answer. “I suppose it _is_ up to me. I’ll be back, I think. We have a lot to work through. But this… it was a good first step.” She tapped the floor. “Thanks.”

Ahtohallan hummed beneath her. Elsa smiled. “I know,” she stood and walked back to where she came from. “I’ll get out there and make some more good memories.”

* * *

“So I was thinking blue tones, right? That’s your whole look. I’m having a hard time choosing between regal and nature-themed, though.” Anna walked down the castle halls, babbling. “You can fill the ball room with your ice sculptures, I figure you’d want to make them yourself –“

“Red,” Elsa said with calculated indifference, for the sake of antagonizing her sister.

“I’m sorry?”

“I want red tones.” She fought back a grin.

Anna scowled. “You want red tones.”

“Yes.”

“You want red tones,” Anna repeated. “You. The self-entitled Queen of Ice and Snow. You want your wedding party’s color palette to be warm hues.”

“Mm-hm.” A smile curled her lips, she couldn’t help it.

Anna stopped in front of her, crossed her arms and scowled. “Really? Because that completely ruins_ our_ sisterly aesthetic, too, you know? I’m Summer Queen, you’re Winter Queen –“ She raised a finger in the air. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

Elsa burst out laughing.

Anna threw her hands up in the air. “Honestly! What does Maren even see in you? That woman is a _saint_ –“

“Blue is good,” Elsa said, still snickering. “I’m fine with anything as long as you’re having fun, Anna.” She elbowed Anna’s side. “I know you’ll make it perfect. Parties were always your thing. I’ll mostly be there to spook the guests and show the whole world what a lucky woman I am.”

Anna smiled, wrapping one arm around Elsa’s shoulder. It was an awkward position because she was much shorter. “If anyone in the world deserves happiness, it’s you.”

Elsa tipped her head, bumping it against Anna’s. “We both do. You’re a hero of a sister. Wouldn’t be here without you.”

Anna moved to hold her hand, and the two resumed their walking. “You know, this is better than anything I could have imagined.”

Elsa smiled. “And what, pray tell, did you imagine?”

“That you’d be queen, for starters.” A guard pushed the castle doors open, and the two walked out. Likely spurred by Elsa’s presence, some late-winter snow had covered the courtyard in a white blanket, and Anna’s grip on Elsa’s hand tightened for support. “That you’d have a nice…husband.”

“Literally any alternative is better than that scenario,” Elsa’s boots crunched the ice. “Me by my myself in my ice castle is a better option. Me raising a family of reindeer is a better option. Me making an ice boat and sailing into the unknown? Better option. Me –“

“I get it, you jerk,” Anna punched her on the shoulder. Elsa grinned. “Why didn’t you tell me that men weren’t your thing?”

“It never came up?” Elsa shrugged. “I was busy running a kingdom.”

“That’s _exactly_ why you should have told me!” They stopped by a balcony with a view of the ocean. “You worked nonstop! The arduous role of matchmaker fell on my shoulders, and how could I perform that properly if I kept picking the wrong gender of suitor?”

Elsa smirked, running her fingers over the layer of snow on top of the railing. “It was funny to see you try.”

“You’re awful.” Anna stopped by her side and bumped their shoulders. “I thought you’d marry me off to some foreign prince and I’d never see you again. That scared me more than anything, I think.”

“The idea of getting rid of you was tempting, but I couldn’t.” Elsa bumped her sister back. “I needed someone to dump the throne on when I invariably ended up ditching it.” Elsa’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

Anna laughed. “You never intended to keep it, did you?”

“What gave it away? Was it the fact that I bailed as soon as you turned twenty-one?” Little snowflakes began to fall, and Elsa tracked them with her eyes. “Despite my fondness for paperwork, you’re a better queen than I’ll ever be.”

“You were fine. People liked you.”

“Of course they did. I was preceded by dad.” She licked her lips absently. “Who was arguably the worst monarch Arendelle has ever seen. I froze the entire fjord over and that was _still_ better than eighteen years of closed gates.”

“I suppose the lack of magical accidents does count in my favor,” Anna snorted. “I don’t know. I feel we’re finally where we were meant to be.” She turned around took a couple steps away.

“Mmh-hm.” Elsa tapped her fingers on the cool metal. “I want the piano.” She shuffled her feet. “For my wedding, I mean. Maren likes it when I play.”

Anna smiled. “We all do, really. The kids love it. I wish I’d had the patience to learn when I was little, because for the longest while, it was the only thing able to make Joan fall asleep, and I think if I play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star one more time, Kristoff will lose his mind.”

Elsa laughed. “I do miss playing. Maybe I should take the piano up north.” The wind blew on her face, and she closed her eyes to fully appreciate the smell of salt water it brought.

“I’ll have another one made for you. Agnarr is using this one to learn.”

“Is he, now?” Elsa opened her eyes and watched the waves. “Maybe we can play a duet. Something of my own composition. Or of yours.” She gave Anna a side-eyed glimpse. “What was that thing which you liked to sing with Hans, mmh? Love is an open –“

“Don’t you dare.”

She grinned. “It was a good song! I’m sure I could transcribe it.” Anna threw a snowball her way. Elsa dodged, snickering. “You do sing well! You ought to write your songs down.”

“Maybe we could make something together.” She crouched down and picked more snow up, then packed it into a snowball. “Any other requests for the party?”

“Mmh.” Elsa rubbed her hands together. “I want Marshmallow to attend.”

“You’ve got to be _fucking_ kidding me.”

“I’m not!” She laughed when Anna tossed more snow her way. This time, it hit her square on the chest. “You know he’s well behaved! It wouldn’t feel right without him –“ A snowball smacked her on the face. “Anna! I meant it!”

“Elsa. Sister. I love you very much, and I love everything you create.” Anna made another snowball. “And Marshmallow is a sweetheart, but he’s also a huge, awkward, clumsy creature of ice.”

“So is Kristoff, and I let you take him everywhere,” Elsa pointed out.

The sheer outrage on Anna’s face made her whole trip to Arendelle worthwhile. “You take that back right now!”

“Marshmallow smells better,” Elsa quipped, just to add insult to injury.

“Oh, you’re on,” Anna snarled, and this time, when she threw the snowball, Elsa blocked it with magic.

Elsa tapped her foot on the ground and formed a chest-high wall of ice. She flicked her wrist and a pile of snowballs formed next to her. Anna took cover behind a bench, and because Elsa was a fair queen, she supplied her with ammunition as well.

“Bring it!”

* * *

“The sky looks prettier back home.”

Over the bustling chatter of the ballroom, she could barely hear Maren’s voice. Like most other things about the party, the loudness annoyed her. She’d been putting up with it for Anna’s sake, but eventually it grew too overwhelming and she excused herself to go out for some air.

It was no surprise that Maren knew where to find her.

“All the light from Arendelle make the stars seem dimmer,” Elsa said, raising her eyes to the sky. She moved to the side so that Maren could share the bench with her. “The first night I spent in my castle on the mountains, I recall being stricken by how beautiful it looked. I always thought there was a lesson there – the stars shone brighter away from here, and so did I.”

“Mmh.” Maren took Elsa’s hand between hers. “I don’t think anything could dim your light, Elsa.” She paused and smiled. “There were no stars in the forest before you. And even after you put them there for me,” She pressed a kiss against the back of Elsa’s hand, “You were still the only thing I could look at.”

“Flatterer,” Elsa mumbled, feeling her cheeks burn. “Is the ‘honey’ in your name from the honeyed words you like to spill?”

Maren grinned. “Maybe so. You, though,” she interlaced their fingers. “You’re a scholar, and a musician, and an avid reader and a princess. I’m sure you could dazzle me with your words, if you tried.”

“You want me to recite you some poetry?” Elsa leaned back against the bench and crossed her legs at the ankles. “I was never good with love stories. Those are more Anna’s cup of tea. I liked the spooky ones.”

“Of course you did.” Maren scooted closer so that their sides touched. “Recite me a spooky one, then.”

She turned sideways to face Maren. “And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting, on the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.” She made eye contact and dropped her voice to a whisper. “And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, and the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor. And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, shall be lifted,” She paused for a split second, “Nevermore.”

Maren tilted her head, lips quirking into a smile. “A raven, huh? You’re a bit like a raven.”

“It’s part of a bigger poem – I am?” Elsa blinked. “Because I am a herald of death and doom, trapping souls beneath my shadow?”

“That’s unfair to them. Ravens are really smart birds, did you know? They can learn to talk, and you can train them to do things for you, and they have this odd partnership with wolves –“ Maren narrowed her eyes, “What are you smiling at?”

Elsa shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just strangely attracted to your knowledge of wildlife. So what is it that we have in common?”

“Pulling tails.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You know,” Maren grinned. “Sometimes there’ll be a cat, or a dog, or a fox, anything really, and they’re just sitting there doing their own thing. And then in comes a raven, and it just… pulls on the poor creature’s tail and flies away. And sometimes they do it to steal that animal’s food, which is just brilliant, but sometimes they do it just because they can.”

Elsa burst out laughing. “Are you calling me mean-spirited?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all night? Pulling tails?” Maren fired back. “Causing small amounts of mayhem with magic and well-placed words?”

“I’m bored.” Elsa offered a lazy smile. “All those people demanding your attention? That’s unfair. I want my wife all for myself.”

“Do you, now?” Maren leaned in, cupping her cheek, and kissed her briefly. “Come, give me another poem.”

Elsa let her eyes roam over Maren’s face, stopping at her lips. She pulled back and drummed her fingers against the bench. “All I have are my two hands, and the feelings of the world. But I am full of slaves, my memories leak, and my body endures in the confluence of love.”

“By the gods,” Maren pressed their lips together once again, for longer this time. “Are they all so bleak?”

“Yes.” Maren wore a suit, but she’d removed the jacket, exposing her shoulders. Elsa kissed the bare skin before starting another poem. “I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars did wander darkling in the eternal space.” She trailed kisses to Maren’s neck. “And men forgot their passions in the dread of this their desolation; and all hearts were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light.”

“Have mercy,” Maren ran her thumb over Elsa’s cheek. “My soul is being sucked by those.”

“You asked for them.”

“I just wanted to hear you talk pretty. You're so quiet, you can’t blame me for wanting you to wax some purple prose.”

Elsa arched an eyebrow. “All right.” Her hands drifted to Maren’s braid, undoing it so she could run her fingers through the dark hair. “I could say…” She thought for a moment. “That your eyes are rings of honey that could thaw the coldest ice.” She saw Maren’s cheeks darken and smirked. “And that your kisses are as sweet as your name, and I knew from the moment I first saw you smile that I was doomed. I could talk about your inspiring words, your calming presence, your gentle touch. I could say,” She leaned closer to whisper on Maren’s ear, “That you, and only you, brought this queen to her knees. But ah. This is too cheesy. Want to hear a poem about a bat?”

“Jerk,” Maren mumbled, looking at the door to the ballroom, then at the stairs that led down to the beach. “Want to ditch this party? Everyone is already too drunk to care, and I don’t think Anna ever expected us to last through the whole night.”

“Your words are music to my ears, and not even the best poets could rival them,” Elsa grinned, jumping to her feet. She extended her hand to help Maren stand. “Were we not already wed, I’d ask you to marry me.” Elsa considered the thought. “Maybe I’ll just keep proposing to you.”

“Don’t forget the ring,” Maren teased. She was a bit wobbly on her feet from the alcohol – they both were. “So what’s that about a bat? Gloomy or not, I just realized I find your poem voice to be very sexy.”

The smile that took her lips was as involuntary as it was genuine. “I’ll tell you what,” Elsa stared at the ocean, thoughtful. She kicked off her shoes. “Beat me to the coast, and I’ll give you one love poem.” She raised her index finger. “Only one.”

“Are the love poem and the bat poem one and the same? I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.”

“No, the bat one is about human consciousness,” Elsa replied, relishing on the feeling of her bare feet against cobblestone. “I’ll recite it for you on our way down. And yes, I know, no ice powers.”

“You’re on,” Maren replied, and broke into a run before Elsa could reply. “And talk louder so I can hear you!”

_I love you,_ Elsa thought, and took her hand to her chest where the feeling seemed close to making her heart burst. And though the words would probably get stuck in her throat if she tried to say them, she realized maybe a poem would do just fine.

She counted to ten to give Maren a good head start.

“Midnight. To my room I draw back. Oh God! And this bat! Now look!” She called out, her voice echoing on the castle’s stone walls. “On the rough burning of natural thirst, the scorching sauce bite off my neck –“

And then she ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _curtain drops, drum roll_
> 
> i hope all of you found the journey satisfying 
> 
> this has been great fun to write and I'm overall happy with how it turned out
> 
> thanks to everyone for the comments, the long discussions and the unwavering support. I loved talking plot and characterization and gay things with y'all, it was amazing and fun <3
> 
> "Buttons, will you keep dabbling in the frozen fandom?"  
probably. I have some things planned. we'll see!
> 
> "Buttons, can we be friends?"  
absolutely! feel free to slide into my DMs. i am very friendly and very awkward
> 
> "Where else may i find you?"  
[Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/spookybuttons)|[Twitter](https://twitter.com/buttons151)|[Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/buttonss)
> 
> special thanks to [ mittens](https://kitua.tumblr.com/) for all the help with this chapter!


	17. Bonus - Blurbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "buttons what the fuck is this"  
exactly what it looks like: fanfic bloopers

**Kristoff:** “Do you think your sister will get a boyfriend among the Northrulda? Maybe Arendellians just weren’t her type.”

**Anna:** “In twenty-one years of life I have never seen my sister look at a man.”

**Kristoff:** “Maybe she’s shy?”

**Anna:**

**Anna:** “Yeah. Shy. That’s what she is.”

\--

**Iduna:** “What do you have there?”

**Elsa:** “Crippling depression born out of your shitty parenting.”

**Anna:** “A KNIFE!”

**Iduna:** “NO!”

\--

**Elsa, age 6:** “Fuck.”

\--

**Elsa:** “I dreamed I had a boyfriend.”

**Anna:** “Aw. What was he like?”

**Elsa:** “I don’t know. I woke up screaming.”

\--

**Maren:** “So if your dresses are made out of ice, does that mean you’re naked and wet all the time?”

**Elsa:** “Naked? Yes.”

**Elsa:** _[gives Maren the up-and-down]_

**Elsa:** “Wet? Also yes.”

\--

**Baby:** _[screaming]_

**Anna:** _[strips Kristoff from his covers]_

**Anna:** “Show yourself! It’s your turn!”

\--

**Maren:** “What’s this?”

**Elsa:** “It’s a document laying down the rules for our next races. See? It officially says ice powers aren’t allowed.”

**Maren:** “It also says the reward for second place is a kiss from the winner?”

**Elsa:** “It’s called a diplomatic compromise.”

\--

**Elsa:** “Is it written ‘Yelana’ or ‘Yelena’?”

**Maren:** “I don’t know. Northruldan writing is pictographic rather than phonetic. We draw signs that remind us of the subject in question.”

**Elsa:** “What’s the sign for Yelana?”

**Maren:** “ಠಗಠ”

\--

**Anna:** “So when are you going to get a baby?”

**Elsa:** “Don’t you think you’ve more than handled the duty of keeping the bloodline alive?”

**Anna:** “That’s not an answer.”

**Elsa:** “Maybe next summer.”

\--

_… were you raised in a BARN. Were you taught romance by WENCHES and SAILORS. How DARE you stain the family name like this. Do you not know etiquette? Do you not know how a woman ought to be courted? I swear to god ELSA if you don’t treat this woman right I will – [smudged ink]_

_\--_

**Anna:** “All my white hairs were caused by you –“

**Elsa:** “Those were accidents.”

**Anna:** “ – and only a minority of those were caused by your magic.”

\--

**Elsa:** “There’s a cat in the table.”

**Maren:** “On the table, not in the table.”

**Elsa:** “No, it’s in the table.”

**Maren:** “Holy fuck –”

\--

**Anna:** _[angry crying]_

**Elsa:** _[cackles]_

\--

**Elsa:** “Take me home to a place where I belong –“

**The North Wind:** WEST VIRGINIA

\--

_[After a minor inconvenience]_

**Elsa:** “I long for the sweet embrace of death.”

**Maren:** “Is this what you meant by the pervasiveness of suicidal intent? Are you serious or are you joking to cope?”

**Elsa:** “Yes.”

\--

**Maren: “**What’s your favorite place in the castle?”

**Elsa: ** “The exit.”

\--

**Anna: “**So what do we do when we feel sad?”

**Elsa: “**Disappear into the woods for weeks?”

**Anna: “**No –“

**Maren: **“Mushrooms!”

**Anna: **“NO!”

**Ryder: **“Talk to the reindeer about it?”

**Kristoff: **“That sounds about right.”

**Anna:** _[freeze frame, looks at camera]_

_\--_

**Maren: **“So, is your sister into girls?”

**Anna: **“My sister is into trouble.”

\--

**Elsa:** _[pokes Anna several times with a stick]_

_\--_

_[upon finding a magical lamp] _

**Genie: “**Each one of you gets one wish –”

**Elsa: **“I want –“

**Genie: **“And you can’t ask for more wishes.”

**Elsa: **[…]

**Anna: **“I wish for a reign of prosperity in Arendelle.”

**Maren: **“And I wish for the Northrulda to share that prosperity.”

**Elsa: **“I wish for more genies.”

**Genie: **“Wait a second –”

**All the new genies: **“Wait a second –”

\--

**Anna: ** _[winning_ _an argument]_

**Elsa: **“LALALALALA!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love this gang of dumbasses so much

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to barbara_lazuli FOR SO MUCH WONDERFUL ART YOU SHOULD CHECK OUT RIGHT NOW  
[ x1](https://barbara-lazuli.tumblr.com/post/190468522348/i-was-planning-to-draw-some-scenes-from-cryptid-by)  
[x2](https://barbara-lazuli.tumblr.com/post/190511661328/from-cryptid-by-spookybuttons-with-bonus-elsa)  
[x3](https://spookybuttons.tumblr.com/post/190660910942/barbara-lazuli-from-chapter-4-of-cryptid-by)


End file.
